Is it a Shindig or a Hootenanny?
by ShyLight
Summary: G1: During Sideswipe's antics, he causes Prowl’s CPU to crash. In compensation for lack of memory, the tactician’s battle computer takes over. Now Sideswipe, and a handful of bravely stupid Autobots, must try to fix a crazy Prowl as he wages “war”
1. Conventional warfare

YAY for transformers! This idea had been eating away at my head for a while now.

Disclaimer: Don't own. Never will. Plots mine though.

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The time was 0330 hours.

In other terms, it was 3:30 am, half past three, Son las tres y medio, halb vier, san ji han, or however the hell you wanted to say it.

Point was it was way too slaggin' early in the morning for Sunstreaker to be dealing with this.

Poke.

"Sunny?" Ignore him and he'll go away. "Wake up sunshine!" Sunstreaker withheld a growl. "Get up."

Ignore him. Ignore him.

"Come on Sunny! Get your sorry aft up. I need your help." There was a brief blessed silence. At least until the hell spawn standing over him actually scoffed at his efforts of faking recharge. "I know you're awake, and I will get you up. I have my ways you know." He could hear the devilish smirk in his twin's voice.

'_You wouldn't dare.'_

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine …"

'_Sideswipe…'_Sunstreaker glowered warningly in his thoughts. He had a long day (human jails were horribly cramped) and simply wanted to recharge in peace.

"You make me happy  
when skies are gray!"

"Sideswipe," he grumbled just barely above whisper.

"You'll never know, dear,  
How much I love you  
Please don't take my sunshine away."

To give Sunstreaker credit he lasted through three and a half versus of the song, one sung in a fake falsetto, before cracking and throwing the nearest thing he could grab, a data pad, at Sideswipe. His twin merely sidestepped the projectile all while grinning maniacally.

"What do you want?" Sunstreaker snapped at the current bane of his recharge.

"I have come up with a brilliant prank, my little Dandelion of Doom," he relayed to his brother blithely.

"Slag off. I'm going back to recharge." Sunstreaker rolled over, but Sideswipe would have none of that.

"Aww, Sunny. I need your artsy skills. That and I don't wanna do it with out my Sulky Sunflower. What about brotherly bonding?" he whined despondently.

"How about I bond you to a _flame torch_? And, if you compare me to one more primitive, organic, pollen plant, you automatically sign away all rights to your internals and give me all privileges to remove and rearrange them as I please."

"Hm, I kind of like the flame torch idea. Imagine the possibilities. The seekers I could fry! The Decepticons I could weld to cluster bombs." Sideswipe quietly snickered to himself. "Still back to more pressing matters…" Sideswipe pulled on his largest, wobbling, innocent, Sparkling eyes, and the expression humans often called, 'The puppy dog pout' graced his handsome features with dastardly adorable effects. "Pleeeeeeeease Sunny? For me? Suuunnnyy?" He dropped to his knees, clasped his hands together, and shuffled himself to the side of his brothers recharge berth.

Sunstreaker groaned at the pathetic display, long since immune to the pitiable cuteness. Sideswipe truly had no dignity, and would be relentless until Sunstreaker agreed to help him. Prolonging the inevitable would only cut into Sunstreaker's recharge time further. Also, while he avoided Sideswipe's schemes like a plague most of the time _one_ time couldn't hurt.

"Fine. I'll help you. But this is a one time deal and right after I'm going back to sleep," he said attempting to force down the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, to no avail.

"Now that's the Destructive Daffodil I know and love!" Sideswipe skillfully ducked and avoided being hit by an empty canister of polish aimed for his head.

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The victims had been Trailbreaker and Hound. They weren't the usual targets, and Sideswipe rarely did anything to either of them. Yet he figured that the two of them were probably feeling "left out" from not getting the Lamborghini's attention. Being the ever noble, charitable philanthropist that he was, he decided to remedy that.

The plan (which included a wonderful invention of the humans called duct tape, a mirror, and various colors of paint) had been successfully executed. The brothers snuck into Trailbreaker and Hound's quarters, set up their prank with out the formerly mentioned two waking up, and then stood to admire their work.

"Well I think this was a success. What do you think my brother?" Sideswipe inquired dubiously to his twin.

"I think it was pleasantly simple, and well done. All there is to do now is wait until they wake up later." Sunstreaker snickered, thoroughly amused with the results of his artistic handiwork.

"And now time to skirt away from the scene of the crime, and disappear quietly into the night," Sideswipe whispered dramatically for effect. There would be suspicions, of course, that the lambotwins were responsible, but with nothing to pin them to the scene of the crime, nothing too horribly could be done to either of them.

All there was left to do was slink quietly, and skillfully, away from the scene of the crime.

Sideswipe walked to the door and pressed the button on the wall that opened the entrance. However, the door didn't move. He pressed the button again, but nothing happened that time either.

That wasn't part of the plan.

"Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker questioned him nervously, his grin wilting off his face.

"Uh, just hang on an astrosecond." Sideswipe abandoned the button and attempted opening the door manually. When it didn't budge, he tried again with a bit more force. It stuck firm. "Wuh-oh."

"Wuh-oh?" Sunstreaker gritted. "What the frag does Wuh-oh indicate?"

"It indicates that the door's stuck." Sideswipe's straight and to the point remark threw Sunstreaker off for several seconds.

"You can't be serious." Sunstreaker gaped as Sideswipe attempted shoving the door upwards with brute strength.

"Slag, slag, slag, slag." Sideswipe's hands slid up the metal as he pushed, but the door remained tight and true, not shifting an inch.

"You've have got to be freakin' kidding me." The yellow warrior ghosted to his brother's side and tried lifting the door up from the bottom. It remained steadfast. "We're stuck in here!? Do you know what Prowl will do to us if he finds us here?" Sunstreaker whispered heatedly.

"We'll either be scrubbing the Ark until either of the following: A, we wear it down to nothing, or B, are as old as Cybertron," Sideswipe started. "Or we'll be locked up in the brig until we're diminutive piles of rust flakes," The red mech answered in a low voice.

"You." Sunstreaker jabbed Sideswipe in the chest with a finger, and moved in so his face was almost touching his brother's. "This is your fault and you sure as slag better get us out of this. I do not want to have another run in with Prowl in the same 24 hours. I am not going to the brig because _you..._" jab, "...were stupid enough to lock us in," he hissed menacingly.

"I didn't lock us in; the door's not working. And this situation's not _that_ bad. As the humans say, all clouds have a silver lining you know." Sideswipe raised his hands defensively in attempt to pacify his irate brother despite the fact his own annoyance was growing as well.

"Not mushroom shaped ones," Sunstreaker retorted agitatedly. "And that's the only kind of cloud you'll be seeing if we ever get out of here."

"You make it sound like we're marching to the executioner or something." Sideswipe made a motion that made it seem like he was rolling his optics.

"We will be," Sunstreaker said blandly.

"Well stop complaining and help me with the stupid door!"

And as the Lambotwins struggled with the inactive exit, Trailbreaker and Hound slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of any of the events that had gone on, and were taking place, inside of their quarters.

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It had been a rather, productive day for Prowl. A long, tedious, yet productive day.

Prime was away on a rare leave to check up on the situation in Cybertron. So Prowl, being the second in command, had to take over Prime's duties as well as keep up with his own.

The events of the day included locating Jazz's missing Led Zeppelin, Simon and Garfunkel, and Stevie Wonder tapes (Blaster had borrowed them and forgot to inform Jazz of this), scraping Gears and Blades off of a wall (Windcharger accidentally overcharged the air again), keeping Ratchet from killing Tracks, and bailing Sunstreaker out of jail. Apparently the yellow mech had been speeding. So a cop pulled him over and routinely asked him if he knew how fast he was going. Sunstreaker promptly replied with, "You should know A-hole you're the one that pulled me over." Things took off from there.

Also, quite a few of the doors in the Ark had been malfunctioning recently. That matter had been addressed, but none of them were entirely sure if the problem had been completely solved yet.

Finally, with all of the day's events behind him, he was able to get around to finishing his own work. It took him deep into the night, and by the time he was done with everything, it was already early morning of the next day. Since he would have to wake up in only two and a half hour's anyway, there was no point in going to sleep this far into the game. Instead, he planned on using the free time to begin a book file Jazz had gotten a hold of for him called A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway. He had been meaning to read it for a while.

With a mug of medium grade energon, he made himself comfortable in his desk chair, picked up the file, and then quickly set it back down on his desk as a muffled thump sounded off in the distance.

He'd bet his front axel that the twins were up to something again.

It looked like he wasn't going to be reading his book file anytime soon. After all, keeping the destructive duo from blowing up the Ark (or super gluing minibots to the ceiling again) took priority over a leisurely read.

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Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had come up with a new tactic. If they couldn't get the door to open normally, then they'd just have to go through it.

Both had long since given up being quiet seeing as Hound and Trailbreaker hadn't so much as stirred after the twins had accidentally tripped over each other and crashed loudly, and painfully, into the wall. They were now simply desperate to get out of the confinement of their teammates room.

Their tactic included ramming themselves against the door in order to break it down, and pray to Primus that no one heard it. Even Sunstreaker complained minimally about the damage it would cause his shoulders considering that worse would be done to him if they got caught in the act of a prank.

The door was proving to be a worthy adversary. The two warrior mechs had barely dented it when they hurled their selves at it. Sideswipe could almost feel the door mocking them, laughing at them. It was a conspiracy! A CONSPIRACY!

…

He apparently had been around Red Alert too often.

Sunstreaker halted abruptly as Sideswipe rammed himself into the door repeatedly a few more times like a bee trying to get through a glass window.

"Sunstreaker. What are you doing?" Sideswipe also stopped. His brother gave him a dull look.

"You have pile drivers," he said flatly. Sideswipe paused a moment to ponder this before realization dawned on him.

"Oh yeah." a wicked grin graced his features.

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Well... this was a surprise.

Prowl found himself situated in front of Trailbreaker's and Hound's quarters, the source of the incessant banging.

He could've sworn it would be tweedledumb and tweedledumber making the commotion, but apparently this one time he had been off the mark.

If only he knew…

Abruptly, the noise stopped. Prowl paused a moment and then walked up to the door. He was about to knock when suddenly, the door was blown out of its frame with incredible force. The last thing Prowl saw was a titanium and steel alloy wall coming at him.

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CRASH

WHUMP

"We're free!" Sideswipe, who had fallen over when the door gave out to his pile drivers, threw his hands in the air from his position on the floor. Quickly, he scrambled up and looked to see Sunstreaker still standing in the doorway, optics wide with incredulity. "What?" he inquired. The gold mech pointed shakily to the floor. Sideswipe whirled around, and felt his cheery disposition from the newly acquired freedom take a nosedive.

Both twins went slack jawed, their processors freezing to the core, in realization of what happened.

Prowl was lying face down, spread eagle, unmoving with a rather large nasty dent decorating the back of his helm. The blasted out door was lying, bent at almost a 90 degree angle, next to him.

"Prowl?" Sideswipe edged foreword cautiously. The Datsun didn't respond. "Prooowl?" He lightly nudged the second in command on the side with the tip of his foot.

He still didn't move. Sideswipe sent his brother a panicked look, and the yellow warrior met it with his own trepidation laced stare.

Sideswipe felt renewed appreciation for his egocentric brother.

Friends may give you an alibi, but brothers help you hide the body.

Trailbreaker and Hound still didn't stir.

00000000

It had been a long day. Ratchet could almost swear that the Autobots seemed to get themselves more damaged on their own time then when against the Decepticons. In fact, if anything, their battle injuries seemed to be the lesser evil at times. Those injuries often distracted the Autobots long enough to prevent them from harming themselves worse through other forms of stupidity.

Since the Decepticons hadn't attacked in nearly a week, and the med bay wasn't flooded with its usual injured, Ratchet decided he would take the time to organize everything and take inventory of the medical equipment and provisions. It was necessary to do relatively frequently so he could keep track of certain medical supplies they might be running low on. It was a time consuming job, and best done when there wouldn't be any interruptions or other matters that interfered.

All had been going well right up until Tracks entered supporting a dinged up, limping Ironhide. Ratchet growled, helped Ironhide on to one of the med tables, and asked what happened to get the old veteran in such bad shape.

For some reason, Ironhide and Tracks had been on patrol together. It was an odd combination, but it had been on Prowl's orders. The second in command's reason behind it had been something about the usual pairings getting stale. So it was best for the team if the soldiers grouped with people they were not used to working with. Ratchet simply concluded that Prowl must have been bored and was looking for entertainment. Especially, after he paired Cliffjumper and Sunstreaker together for monitor duty. Primus knows that did not end well. Ratchet spent most of that day re-rearranging Cliffjumper's manifolds, and removing shrapnel from Sunstreaker's backside.

Anyway, back to the initial story. It had started to rain, and Tracks and Ironhide were almost done with patrol anyway so they decided to return to the Ark to escape the wetness.

From what Ratchet was told, some crappy, rusted, scrapheap of a Toyota Corolla (Track's words, not his) fender-bendered Tracks (here Ironhide intervened saying that it was more of an accidental bump that barely left a hairline scratch.). Regardless, Tracks had been infuriated by the "damage" done to his beloved alt mode and pursued said scrapheap in a chase reaching speeds they were sure weren't legal on the interstate. Poor Ironhide couldn't do anything but chase after them and yell apologies to the Police officers they sped past

That was where events took a turn for the worst. Some how the Toyota was able to shake Tracks off when it exited off onto the highway. Tracks, stupidly, attempted to follow it at the speed he had been going, but the wet road caused him to hydroplane right into the middle of traffic.

And then poor Ironhide took one for his teammate, and shoved Tracks out of the oncoming onslaught of cars to the curve right before being plowed into by a speeding fire truck. That lead them to there situation in the med bay.

As Ratchet was trying to work on Ironhide's knee (his legs got the brunt of the collision), Tracks continued to moan and groan about the "damage" the Toyota caused and how when Ironhide brutally shoved him, his paintjob got mussed ("You know. I coulda just left ya there you little ungrateful..." –Ironhide) Finally, Ratchet had to threaten Tracks with severing his vocal cords to make the Chevrolet Corvette shut up.

Ironhide simply chuckled at the threat, seemingly unphased by the fact Ratchet was still cutting into his knee joint with his laser scalpel even though his gaze was aimed at Tracks instead of the task at hand, and said something about Tracks not wanting to mess with Ratchet's Arkansas toothpick (1).

"The hell is an Arkansas toothpick?" Ratchet grumbled to himself. He could not seem to figure out where on Earth Ironhide picked up that southern drawl of his or its slang. Probably, when he learned English, it was the closet thing to the particular dialect of Cybertronian he spoke and that's why he chose it.

Well, the whole fiasco sent him back several hours, despite the fact that Wheeljack jumped in to assist him, and he was forced to sacrifice some of his recharge time in order to make sure the inventory was done properly. He checked his internal clock to find that the time was nearly 0420 hours and sighed.

Taking one final sweep of the room to see that nothing was amiss, he turned to Wheeljack. "I think we're done for the night."

"Kay. Just let me go over this direct semiconductor detector one last time." Wheeljack waved not looking up from the strange machine he was tinkering about with.

Ratchet walked up to the med bay's door, but refrained from opening it as a shuffling noise entered his audio receptors. Was someone up? Puzzled, he leaned so one audio sensor was placed against the door. He focused his hearing so he could listen to what was going on clearer. There was clamoring in the hall. Then someone began speaking, and Ratchet zeroed in on the voices echoing in the passage.

"Sunny. Sunny be careful!"

"Shut up Sides. I've got it under control."

Oh, sweet Primus it was the twins. The sun wasn't even up and they were already directing their warpath of devastation and idiocy in his direction.

"Sunny. Sunny stop! You're going to drop-," CLANG, "him."

Ratchet blanched. Him? What ever they had done it probably wasn't good, "What the hell have those moronic, spawns of the pit done now?" Silently he opened the door and entered the hall, walking mutely in the direction of the voices.

"His doors kept hitting my shins! Do you have any idea how much buffing it's going to take to get these scuff marks out? And you keep directing me into door frames. Why the hell am _I_ the one walking backwards anyway?"

"Because you grabbed his arms and that's the direction he was facing. Now pick him back up!"

"To hell with that. Trade places with me."

"Fine!" scuffling, "There. Are you happy now? Let's get a move-," CLANG, "Sunstreaker! Why do you keep…You know what! Frag you! I'll take him myself!"

"Well fine! Frag you too! Do it yourself then."

"Fine! I will."

SCREEEEEEECH

"…"

Snickering. "I'm not sure dragging him was the best idea. That's an interesting skid mark on the ground though."

"Sunstreaker, I can't pick him up on my own. Please help me." Silence. "Sunstreakeeer," there was pleading in this voice.

"If I seem to give a damn, please tell me. I would hate to be giving the wrong impression."

"Sunstreaker!"

"This _is_ your entire fault anyway."

"Why the heck is this all my fault? You slaggin helped!"

"I was sleeping when you dragged me into this hellish setup."

"This is as much your fault as it is mine so help me."

"I beg to differ. Whose idea caused this, hmm?"

"You think our dear CMO is going to care whose _idea_ it was if he finds out, Mr. use-your-pile-drivers-Swipes?"

"Fine." Sunstreaker growled. He grabbed both of Prowls legs and they began there merry shuffle to the med bay.

The plan was simple. Carry Prowl to the med bay, leave him by the door, knock, and then flee like the wrath of the inferno was at their ankles. Though, if they were actually given a choice, Sideswipe seriously considered taking his chances with the Pit's wrath, over Ratchet's wicked fury.

"Let's hurry up. All of that racket we were making might have…" Sunstreaker suddenly froze, almost tearing Prowl's arms from Sideswipe's grip with his abrupt halt.

"Sunny? What're you…" Sideswipe trailed off seeing his brother's gaze aimed past his head. Slightly apprehensive, he glanced over his shoulder to where his brother had been staring.

Ratchet was staring at them both, but instead of his apoplectic fury there was another expression written across his face. Complete utter shock and bewilderment laced his features as he looked back and forth between the comatose Prowl and the two hellions carrying the Tactician.

No one spoke for several moments and they all stood in an awkward silence.

"What did you two do?" Ratchet gaped in complete disbelief. Sideswipe opened his mouth to speak but Ratchet cut him off sharply, "Don't say a word, and get him to the med bay _now_."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared worried glances. Ratchet's cold anger was much scarier then his normal heated fury.

They carried Prowl, without dropping him this time, and set him on his side on one of the tables. Wheeljack was surprised to see them all and Prowl in that condition. Still, he decided to not ask questions and simply did what Ratchet asked of him.

The twins stood silently by the wall as Ratchet worked wordlessly on removing the dent on the back of Prowls head.

"Give me one reason," Ratchet started breaking the silence, "Why I shouldn't beat the slag out of you two, rebuild you both as tricycles, and dump you both off the side of a cliff."

"Um… Because you love us?" Sideswipe tried giving Ratchet his best, sweet, childlike smile, but the menacing look Ratchet countered it with made him drop his gaze to the floor and shift uncomfortably.

"His auditory system and optical systems appear to be functioning fine. It's just that nasty dent I'm worried about." Ratchet frowned at Wheeljack's words. Head injuries and dents were a delicate matter to deal with since so many vital systems were either located or controlled by the cranial area.

"Well, I have the dent fixed. Wheeljack, I want you to do a scan of all of Prowl's internal systems, just incase any thing in his cranial unit was damaged."

"Will do Ratchet." Wheeljack placed a metal circlet on Prowls helmet, connecting him to the scanner. He then chuckled happily to himself: the twins were in for it now.

"You two." Ratchet snapped his head in the direction of the twins. "I wanna have a word with you both."

The twins dropped their heads in guilt as they followed the CMO out of the med bay and into the hall. Wheeljack chuckled at their kicked puppy dispositions as the left.

As all of this was happening, something rather interesting was happening up in Prowl's head.

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_Rebooting…_

_Searching for connection to CPU._

_Searching… Searching…._

_Connection denied. No signal. Access to CPU and OS failed._

_Connection impaired. Rerouting main functions. Functions rerouted to BC._

_Searching… Connecting…_

_Connection to Battle Computer successful._

_Status: Operational._

_Objective: unhindered self repair. Rewire and Reconnect to CPU._

_Battle computer status- Survival mode. Remove all threats to the objective._

_Scanning… Scanning…_

_Presence affirmed. Target located. Profiling subject, searching for match in back up files._

_Searching… Loading…_

_File located._

_Subject is the Autobot Wheel jack: Code reference: The Biohazard. Occupation: Inventor/Mechanic, also occasional assistant to Welder Harpy. Has a history of destructive actions, exploding devices and all around unpleasant results due to, theorized, cranial instabilities. Has jeopardized several, including self, in haphazard antics._

_Status: Detrimental._

_Sub-objective: remove detrimental object._

_Target acquired._

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Wheeljack jumped in surprise at the beeps coming from the scanner. He turned around to see that a lot of activity was being recorded on the scanner machine juxtaposed next to Prowl. Suddenly, Prowls optics flickered to life and the Datsun, slowly but surely, rose to a sitting position.

"Oh hey, Prowl! Wow you weren't down for the count too long." Wheeljack chuckled softly.

Prowl said nothing, and gave Wheeljack a calculating look.

"How are ya feeling?"

There was no reply.

"I bet your feeling real disoriented most likely. No worries though. If anything is wrong with your systems the scanner would have caught it. Now let's see." Wheeljack walked to the scanner and read the information on the screen. His metal brow knitted in confusion at the readings. "That's weird. It said your CPU is disconnected and dormant. But that can't be or else you wouldn't be sitting up."

Prowl stared coolly at the back of Wheeljack's head.

"Maybe Ratchet and I overlooked something in inventory or, oh." Wheeljack finished looking over the reading. "Uh oh."

Prowl pounced.

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"Do you have any idea on what you two slaggin' idiots have done!?" Ratchet fumed. "You two have done some moronic things in the past but this takes the oil cake. You incapacitated a ranking officer! Do either of you have any idea on the repercussions of this act? Do you? This is a serious offense! You both could be court marshaled and sent to the brig for who knows how long! Where the hell do you two glitches think we are? Back in the Youth sectors in Sparkling daycare? This is a war!"

"It was an accident…"

"An accident? Do you know how serious head injuries can be!? You both may have severely hurt Prowl! A fellow Autobot and teammate! Do you two know what Optimus would do to you both if he found out? DO YOU!?" Sideswipe noticeably flinched. This was the first time a prank of his backfired badly enough to really hurt a fellow Autobot (in the physical sense anyway), and he could tell that even Sunstreaker felt bad about it. "But you know what? I'm not going to tell Prime." Both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe snapped their gazes up to Ratchet in surprise. "No. When Prowl wakes up, I'm going to let him deal with you."

Ouch.

Before Ratchet could unleash more of his fury upon the destructive duo, his rant was cut off by a shriek that sounded off in the general vicinity of the medical area. The three mechs paused briefly then made a dash for the med bay.

The twins were first to reach it, but when they entered they rooted themselves to the ground and stared blandly ahead. Ratchet had to shove past the two obstructions to get inside. "Wheeljack! What's wro-" Ratchet sputtered in surprise at seeing the mechanic.

Sideswipe remained silent for all about three more seconds before he began to cackle gleefully, his brother quickly followed in suit.

Wheeljack had been welded, upside down, to the wall.

"What the hell?!" Ratchet gaped." What happened?"

"Ratchet! Thank goodness you're here!" Wheeljack's voice was saturated with relief. "We have a huge problem. It's about Prowl's readings…"

"Hey, where is Prowl?" Sunstreaker looked around the med bay only to see that the second in command was clearly not there.

"Hang on, Jack. I'll get you down. While I do that, I need you tell me everything that happened." Ratchet went to where his tray of medical tools was and reached for a laser scalpel only to grope at air. In shock, he looked to see that all of his tools were gone. "What the…" he moved over to the medical cabinets and began sifting through the drawers and cabinets only to find that all of the handheld equipment was missing.

"Um, yeah. You're not going to find anything. Prowl kind of took it all, even all of the spare paint canisters we keep, after he welded me to the wall…" Wheeljack trailed off.

"Wait, you mean Prowl; mister stoic, antisocial, workaholic, calculating Prowl; welded you to the wall, stole all of the medical equipment in under five minutes, and did this all after being attacked by a door?" Sideswipe raised a brow not buying it.

Completely missing the sarcasm in the red and black mech's voice, Wheeljack attempted wiggling his head in a nodding motion. "Yeah! He said something about confiscating… the Welder Harpy's projectiles. I'm not quite sure what he meant by that…" He paused, and after seeing the three occupants giving him their undivided attention he continued, "But I think that dent in the back of his head had something to do with it. From what I gather from the scan, it seems Prowl's memory has crashed."

"His memory crashed," Ratchet said flatly, seriously irked that everything they had just spent hours doing inventory on was now gone.

"What. You mean like those human soap operas that Trailbreaker watches, amnesty?" Sideswipe questioned.

"Amnesia," Sunstreaker corrected.

"Sweat Primus, we broke Prowl!"

"Not exactly. You see, crashed probably wasn't the correct term. It's more like his memory has become disconnected from the rest of his body and is currently in a dormant state," Wheeljack elaborated.

Sideswipe could feel Ratchet's and his brother's glares burning a hole through him.

"How is he awake in that state? If his CPU was severed from his body, he should be in a stasis until self repair rebooted it or I reconnected it," Ratchet asked in doubt. "Also, that doesn't explain the… behavioral issue you claim."

"Uh… Well… That's actually the problem. According to the scanner's readings, in compensation for lack of memory to function by, his battle computer took over."

Ratchet stood in stunned silence, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're doomed."

"It can't be _that_ bad," Sideswipe spoke.

"Oh yes it can. Prowl's battle computer can compute the paths of movement for 800 separate moving objects and determine the proper countermove in half a second. So take that and the fact that he has nearly every kind of warfare and tactic loaded onto it. Now, with out Prowl's conscious to affect its calculations and objectives, in this state, Prowl is as dangerous to the Autobots as he is to the Decepticons. If not worse now."

"Yeah, and considering the fact he jumped me with a spot welder for no reason doesn't bode well for the direction of logic his calculations are taking," Wheeljack mumbled.

"Damn. I could easily fix the problem with a little electro shock therapy, but the problem is I need Prowl first. Where'd he go?" the cranky medic asked agitatedly.

"He said something about successfully incapacitating the 'Biohazard', I think he was talking about me, but I'm not sure… Then he went, I think, left somewhere. I couldn't exactly turn my head to look… Wow, I'm getting kind of dizzy. I did hear him mention something about scanning the premises for hazards to the objective, or whatever that meant… Oh gee, I'm definitely feeling woozy now."

"This is just perfect." Ratchet pressed a button on his forearm. "Autobot Ratchet to Jazz. Jazz wakeup," Ratchet spoke into his comlink. The line crackled to life and a very sleepy sounding Jazz responded.

"Ratchet? What the… what's the situation?" The special operations officer spoke tiredly.

"We have a huge problem, level 3 and escalating. Meet me in the command center. I'll explain everything there."

"Got it," Jazz responded halfheartedly and the connection went dead. Ratchet whirled around to face the Lamborghini twins behind him.

"You two screwed up big time." Though Ratchet was speaking to both of the twins, his black glower seemed to be specifically aimed at Sideswipe. "Come with me. You both started this mess and you both are sure as hell going to help fix it." The angry medic marched to the exit with both Lambos in step behind him.

It was too damn early for any of this.

Wheeljack stared at their retreating forms. "Uh, guys? I'm still kind of… you know stuck… Sooo… Ah never mind. They'll come back. At some point… Eheh, Wow. All my fluids are rushing to my head… Hehehe. What a funny feeling." Wheeljack went silent and chose a rather nice piece of fuzz floating through the air to focus on.

They would come back.

Eventually.

0000

_Multiple presences affirmed. Targets located. Profiling subjects, searching for matches in back up files._

_Searching… Loading…_

_Files located._

_Subject A- Ratchet: Code reference: Welder Harpy. Occupation: CMO. Is a medic. Treats injury. Has history of launching projectiles in the likes of medical tools (arc welder, wrenches, etc) at the forms of patients after healing them. Has a rather colorful vocabulary which is utilized in threatening own medical patients. Unstable and dangerous if caught in his presence at wrong times._

_Subject B- Sunstreaker: Code reference: Sociopathic Sunflower. Occupation: soldier. Competent soldier on the battle field. However, is a noticeable egotist, is extremely difficult to communicate with, and is dangerously violent. Often causes majority of brawls in the vicinity which then in turn, sends beings into the clutches of the welder harpy. Possible deal agreement between the two? Regardless, approach with caution._

_Subject C- Sideswipe: Code reference: The Spawn. Occupation: soldier. Is also a competent soldier like Sociopathic Sunflower. However, is in many ways worse than his brother. Causes mayhem to all general factions and occupants, and shortens the life of the many he terrorizes with his evil. This one is the most detrimental out of all three and must be dealt with accordingly._

_All three subject's status: Detrimental._

_Further scanning of location, the Ark, determines that all other occupants are also threats._

_New objective: debilitate all detriments._

_New tactic: stay hidden._

000000000000000

(1) Southern slang for a really big knife.

First chapters up! So what do you think? It was incredibly fun to write.

Anyway, reviews are loved, constructive criticism appreciated and flames used to toast marshmallows.


	2. Guerilla warfare

Wow! Thank you a for the reviews! I was not expecting such a response OO. And the tips of CC really help a lot. I'm trying to improve.

Disclaimer: don't own. Never will. Plots mine though.

On with the fic.

0000

The time was 0500 hours.

A white and black Autobot was hovering about in front of the weapons chamber looking over his work.

_Sabotage number two: Successful. _

He paused and turned his head toward the dark lit hallway.

_Alert… Alert…_

_Scanners detecting presences approaching proximity_

_Conclusion: Detrimental. Stay hidden._

_Tactic loading… Loading…_

_Tactic selected: Ambush_

Prowl moved himself into one of the farther, darker corners, of the chamber and masked his presence. Now all there was to do was lie in wait.

00000

Huffer hated Earth. There was no other way to put it.

For starters there was all of the dust. He hadn't been clean since arriving. He wasn't meaning to sound like Sunstreaker or Tracks or anything, but getting dirt and grime wedged between your joints, and having it grind in there for weeks on end before being able to finally get rid of it all, wasn't the most pleasant of feelings. Not like on Cybertron where there was no dirt or crusty things to get stuck in various, unpleasant crevices.

Also, there was the weather on Earth. It always seamed like the area they were in was either on fire or underwater. At one moment, the region would be dry as a bone with plants spontaneously combusting in the arid heat. The next a hurricane, monsoon or whatever they decided to call the particular freak storm that decided to hit (does it matter if it spins clockwise or counterclockwise? It rains, it's wet, lighting strikes. Everyone's miserable all the same) and the area would be flooded and muddy for days. Not like wonderful, beautiful Cybertron where there was none of this 'climate' nonsense.

And lastly, yet most importantly, the stupid mud ball was the reason he couldn't go home to his beloved home world.

Technically, the real reason the Autobots were on Earth was the Decepticon's fault. However, the only reason the Decepticons were on Earth was because of its supposed resources. And as long as there were resources to plunder the Decepticons would stay put. And as long as the Decepticons would stay put, so would the Autobots. So, if you went full circle it was because of this stupid, degenerate, backwater, dirtball of a planet that Huffer couldn't go back to Cybertron.

That sort of set his mood for everything else.

So, instead of relaxing in his nice little cozy home on Cybertron, eating a plate full Lead sulfide crystals combined with a savory mercury sauce and flavorful iron filings as garnish for his morning refuel, he was instead standing in a dark, cold hallway, in front of the weapons storage room, waiting to do his morning shift while gnawing on a condensed energon bar.

"Huh. Like, the weapons chamber isn't opening." Beachcomber attempted punching in the key code again, but the door rejected the numbers and refused to unlock.

'_I hate my life.' _Huffer moaned internally as he took another bite from the brittle, dark pink rectangle. Not only was he locked out of the area that he needed to be in for his shift, he was locked out with the mechs he was supposed to be working with: Perceptor, Beachcomber, and Blaster.

Don't get him wrong, he had nothing against the three and actually rather liked them. Unfortunately, at this time of day under the particular circumstances everything was grating on his nerve receptors and seemed intolerable.

The fact that Blaster had some earthen rock band screaming from his speakers didn't help. "Will you shut that infernal Earth racket off?!" Huffer finally yelled harshly at the red tape deck transformer, causing bits of chewed up energon bar to shower the floor.

"Hey. Don't dis my tunes. Alternative metal helps me wake up in the morning. You don't want me to accidentally blow something up cuz I was tired or something, do ya?" Blaster retorted firmly.

"I don't see how that would be possible since it doesn't appear we can get _near_anything for you to set off." Huffer scowled.

"Well, this does appear to be a rather off setting conundrum we have found ourselves in, doesn't it?" Perceptor stared up at the door, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"So, uh, like, how're we getting in?" Beachcomber inquired languidly.

"Well, the doors in the Ark have been malfunctioning lately." Blaster turned his music down a smidgen so the others could hear him better. "Does anyone know the override code?"

"Prowl does," Beachcomber piped up.

"Nah. I don't wanna bother Prowl right now. The poor dude's been up to his optics with other slag." Blaster grimaced. "Seriously; with Optimus gone he's been swamped. Any more pressure added to his wine bottle and the cork will pop."

"Well, I can attempt superseding over the initial encrypted firewalls and override the malfunctioning programmed coded security devices. Maybe that way we can get the door to open." Perceptor walked to the keypad and removed a panel from its side. "I simply hope that Red Alert will be understanding of our circumstances, and will hopefully not throw a fit in our direction because of this."

"Uh… What language was that, 'cuz I don't think it was Cybertronian or English." A sincerely mystified look spread across Beachcomber's features.

"Well this is just great. Our whole schedule for the day is ruined," Huffer groused before grinding another piece of the dark, pink fuel between his dental plating.

"Stop bein' a pessimist man. So we're set back a breem. Big deal. Perceptor'll have the door open in no time. For him it'll be easy as pie, ya know?" Blaster nudged Huffer with his elbow.

"Easy, as what?" It was Huffer's turn to look confused.

"Pie. It's a human food."

Huffer cocked an eye ridge uncomprehendingly.

"It's an idiom." Blaster elaborated.

"You just said it was food."

"No. It's a phrase, too. It just means an easy task or job."

"…I don't get it."

Blaster sighed (a habit he picked up from Spike) and put a hand on his comrade's shoulder. "It's Earth slang. Don't blow a circuit over it."

"Well, this is perplexing," Perceptor's puzzled voice wafted over. He removed his hands from the security panel and moved his face closer to get a better look at the wiring.

"What's the prob, Percy?" Beachcomber moved nonchalantly to the scientist's side.

"It appears that the circuitry of the weapons chamber's lock has already been severely tampered with. Someone deliberately severed these connections and crossed these wires so it would be impossible to unfasten the lock even if we had possession of the override codes."

"What?" This put everyone on full alert. "That's not possible." Blaster shut his internal radio off. "Are you serious?"

"Yes take a look here…" the others crowded around as well as Perceptor began explaining and pointing out all of the anomalies in the wiring. None of them realized that someone was walking up quietly behind them.

So, it was no surprise that Prowl was able to take all four of them down in less than a klik with Ratchet's electroshock rod.

Huffer's, the last one to have been attacked, last thought was, "That stupid, chewy energon bar's going to be stuck in my dental plating for Deca-cycles." Before he was wrestled down from behind and knocked into a stasis lock by the electrical jolt.

_Beat box, Babble, Moan n' Groan and Beach-bum statuses: incapacitated._

Prowl stepped over the unconscious bot's bodies and strode to the door's circuit box. He picked up the panel Perceptor had removed and placed it back to its rightful location.

And with that he strolled out of the room, in the direction of a different location in the Ark.

Wheeljack's lab.

00000

When Jazz entered the command bay he wasn't exactly sure on what to expect.

Most of the Ark was still dark. The majority of the lights wouldn't be turned on until 0630 hours as a way to conserve energy, but the command bay was lit up. When he entered he wasn't surprised to see the twins there as well, but something seemed a bit off.

All questions were quickly answered by Ratchet though.

"So, You're telling me Prowl got all of his sense knocked out of him and his battle computer is picking up the slack?" Jazz asked in disbelief.

That was a new one.

Ratchet nodded.

"And you say he welded Wheeljack to a wall?"

Ratchet nodded again.

And then Jazz proceeded to laugh his aft off.

"Jazz, this is not funny!" Ratchet yelled angrily.

"Sorry, Ratch. It's just the imagery." Jazz snickered. He looked past Ratchet to where the twins were standing, and saw a ghost of a smile on both of their lips. After a few more chuckles, Jazz sobered up. "Well this is a problem now, ain't it?"

"I don't see what the big deal is." Sunstreaker folded his arms over. "How much trouble could he possibly cause?"

"WE'VE BEEN BREACHED!" Red Alert's panicked scream echoed into the command center.

"Well, does that answer your question?" Ratchet muttered darkly.

Quickly following his voice's echoes, Red Alert himself dashed into the command center, almost slamming into a wall since the momentum of his rush made stopping more difficult.

"Whoa. Calm down man, and talk to me. What happened?" Jazz inquired calmly.

"The security system! The northern security system has been dismantled!" Red Alert waved his arms frantically. "I was up for my security rounds and the North sector refuses to turn on. Even the override's not working! It's the Decepticons, I know it! They probably got those slaggin' casseticons to infiltrate us while we where recharging! The Decepticons are attacking!"

Jazz let this information digest, and suddenly things clicked into place as he matched this scenario with what Ratchet just told him moments ago.

"Red, calm down. Decepticons aren't attacking us," Jazz spoke placidly to the frantic Lamborghini Countach. "The casseticons didn't infiltrate us."

"Who did this then?" Red Alert waved his right arm spastically toward the Northern sector in emphasis.

"Uh well… It's not completely his fault, but I'm gonna assume it was Prowl." Jazz had to give the Strategist his props. The Datsun was efficient in crippling his "enemies" and wasted no time in dilly dallying.

"Prowl? Prowl betrayed us to the Decepticons!?" Red Alert reeled back, aghast.

"Aw, it's nothin' like that. Prowl just… has a few screws up in head that are loose right now." The special ops shrugged.

"More like his whole cranial unit is off kilter," Sideswipe added mutely but was jabbed fiercely in the side by Ratchet.

"Well, whatever's wrong, we've got to find Prowl before he takes this place apart by the seams," Ratchet grumbled to no one in particular.

"Hey, no problems. All we have to do is check the surveillance systems, and find out where he is first." Jazz walked to the security monitors, typed in a code and gawked after it didn't work. "Aww, c'mon. No way..." He began typing away furiously at the keyboard only for nothing to happen.

"What? What's wrong?" Red Alert asked frantically.

"It's not just the Northern sector. Someone's deactivated the main security system completely. The security cams aren't working, the sensors are all off, and apparently using Teletraan-1 is out of the question because somehow someone put him in a stasis lock. I can't get him outa it unless I get the code, and that's probably not happenin' since the only ones who have those codes are Prime and Prowl and right now Prime is not here." Jazz sighed and let his arms drop away from the keyboard. This was not a good start on things. "And with out the computers we can't contact Optimus either. Comlinks won't cut it to get to Cybertron. We'd need a pulse wave."

The bots turned their heads as something rather hard and heavy crashed into the ground.

"Jazz, I think you broke Red Alert." Sideswipe sniggered.

"Naw, he probably just had a systems failure cuz of our security systems failing." Jazz waved it off. "Hey, could someone move him outa the way or something? The last thing we need is people trippin' over his body."

And so Red Alert was dragged into the nearest corner.

"Prowl is efficient I'll give him that."

Jazz got a feeling of Déjà vu from Ratchet's words.

The medic continued, "I bet the command bay was the first place he stopped after he assaulted Wheeljack in my med bay."

"Oh, ick. Ew. You could have picked a better word then 'assaulted' Ratchet." Sunstreaker moaned while Sideswipe gagged.

"Thanks for the imagery, Sunny. Now my CPU needs an acid bath."

"You're quite welcome."

Ratchet ignored the two. "This is a serious problem. With our security system down we're sitting ducks. All it'll take is that buzzard Laserbeak to swoop down and see what's happening, and then the Decepticons will be all over us," Ratchet started tensely. "Well, congratulations, Jazz. With Prime elsewhere, and Prowl unfit to lead right now, you're the next in rank to command this band of merry morons." Ratchet crossed his arms.

"Okay. Okay. I can deal with that." Jazz pondered for a moment looking at the faces of each Autobot in the room. "Alright, we should try to make this as little of a deal as possible. The plan's simple. We need to find Prowl, capture 'im, and then let Ratchet fix whatever's on the fritz up in 'is noggin."

"How are we going to find him if the surveillance system isn't working?" Sunstreaker asked skeptically.

"The good ol' fashion way is how. We go lookin' for him." The saboteur grinned.

"Then we'll need someone who can travel easily, soundlessly and quickly through the base to locate him," Ratchet began thoughtfully. "That way more ground will be covered in a shorter time, but we'll be less likely to set Prowl off."

"Who should do it?" asked Sideswipe.

It was at that moment the Aerialbots decided to march sluggishly into the command bay. The team of flyers was on the morning surveillance shift. They shuffled tiredly into the room, not even noticing the quartet of mechs in front of them who were contemplating their convenient entrance.

"We'll use Skydive." With out even looking, Jazz pointed to the bot.

"Wait, huh?" Skydive, who hadn't completely shaken off the lethargy of recharge, decided at that moment to tune into the conversation. "We'll use Skydive for what?"

"Congratulations, my man. You have just volunteered yourself for an exclusive mission to find our missing second in command, Prowl." Jazz grinned jubilantly. He was received by blank confused stares.

"The twins caused Prowl's CPU to crash, his battle computer took over, he currently is in an offensive battle mode somewhere in the Ark, and we don't know where he is or what he's doing," Ratchet filled the Aerialbots on the situation.

Skydive gave Ratchet a horrified look.

"I don't know. I mean I just had some energon a while ago and am feeling pretty full. Flying right after refueling might slow me down or-"

"The only time you have to much fuel is when you're on fire. Now get a move on!" Silverbolt gave him a gentle but firm shove propelling the bot forward.

"Wait! Why just me?"

"Because right now Prowl's on def-con mode and we shouldn't draw to much attention to ourselves." Jazz supplied.

"Okay then. Why _me_?"

"Because Fireflight will end up kamikaze-ing something, Air Raid would get a bit too into the idea and end up running himself into the ground, Silverbolt doesn't like heights and Slingshot…" Jazz paused. "Well he's Slingshot. Good luck soldier!" Jazz grinned in good nature not noticing, or rather not acknowledging, the rather dirty look that the jet-former was giving him.

Skydive gave up on his glare. Jazz merely had to flash that 'Jazztastic' grin of his that stated, 'you can't be mad at me cuz I'm just too easygoing and loveable', and all hatred dissipated instantly.

Primus, scrap it all.

Skydive looked at the ground darkly and slumped toward the exit of the room. It didn't help that Sideswipe obnoxiously sang a snippet from Wild Blue Yonder.

"_Down we dive, spouting our flame from under,  
off with one hell of a roar!  
We live in fame or go down in flame. Hey!"_ Sideswipe cackled and earned himself a smack from his brother.

Skydive didn't _want_ to go down in flame.

"Wait a minute. I wanna say something before you go looking for Prowl." Slingshot placed his hand on Skydive's shoulder, and paused staring deep into his teammate's optics. Skydive looked at him in surprise, truly touched that before his mission his usually self centered team mate wished to speak with him. He could feel a warm fuzzy feeling sprouting inside him. Slingshot stared at him impassively and spoke, "You crash, we dash."

Warm fuzzy feelings gone.

Silverbolt shot Slingshot a disapproving glare.

Before anyone else could speak any more words of "comfort", Skydive transformed and took off.

00000

_Scanning location._

_Scanning… scanning…_

_Location Identified._

_Facility determined to be the Biohazard's lab. It generally seems to be used more frequently as an inadvertent testing ground for explosives then for actual inventions._

Prowl walked impassively through the large, dark space. Several of Wheeljack's jagged inventions and half completed (or partially destroyed) machines were lying around the room, and looked rather menacing in the lack of light. The Tactician was not swayed in the least by the room, and instead made a beeline to the opposite side of the area to where a shelf was.

Sitting on the shelf were various canisters and chemicals. He briefly scanned the contents of each of the bottles and containers, and quickly located the one he was looking for. He grabbed the flask and sub-spaced it, before grabbing a few of the other bottles and sub-spacing them as well.

Just before he could leave his sensors went haywire. The soft muffled sound of an engine entered his highly acute audios. He scanned the area.

_Bogey detected. _

Prowl made himself discrete, hiding amongst the chaotic disarray of Wheeljack's inventions just as Skydive flew into the room.

"I've been everywhere and I haven't seen him. Maybe he left the Ark?" Prowl heard the jet speak as he circled the room before leaving.

Prowl stared after it. He pulled a cannon, one he had swiped from the Weapons bay, out of subspace, and loaded a canister he had gotten from Ratchet's lab into it.

He walked out to the hall and took aim.

0000000

"I'm still not seeing Prowl." Skydive sighed as he glided down another hallway.

"Where are you?" Jazz's voice entered his comlink.

"I'm approaching the B hall."

Jazz sighed and answered, "Come back then." Skydive made a U turn. He could see the command bay's entrance in sight, but there was something else down the hall that caught his attention.

"Wait. I see something!" Air Raid's voice came from the hall. Jazz, along with the Lamborghini brothers, and Silverbolt ran to the entrance of the command center just in time to see the jet fly by.

_Fire._

"What is…?" Skydive spotted a tiny black dot at the end of the hall, and it appeared to be growing. Unfortunately, the poor aerial bot didn't realize that what looked to be a transformer size cannon ball was coming at him up until it was right at his nose. Combined with the speed it was approaching him at, and the speed he was going at toward it he had no time to maneuver out of the way and slammed into the ball.

"SKYDIVE!" Silverbolt called in alarm as thick fluids showered down upon the hall. The remaining Autobots were in shock as they watched the substance rain down, splattering the walls and floor with … orange, green and pink.

"What the hell? Paint?" Sunstreaker snarled as he hopped to avoid getting any of the sticky substance on his paintjob.

"It's not paint. It's liquid plastic," Ratchet glared at the substance recognizing it to be something from his med bay.

"GYAHH!!" Skydive was blinded by the stuff and the force of the impact hit sent him off course. The poor mech could only drop out of the air like a lead brick. In panic, the little plane-former transformed just in time to crash into the ground. He went sprawling and slid down the hallway trailing a brilliant shower of sparks in his wake.

"Skydive! Are you okay!?" Air Raid called to the fallen F-16 watching the poor mech skid past them and down the hall.

"I don't know! I'm not done crashing yet!" Sky Dive's slightly distressed voice resonated from the far recesses of the hall.

Off in the opposite side of the passage a dark figure began to slink away._ Bogey eliminated_. _Extra precautions needed to foil imminent following attempts._ Prowl pulled one of the chemical canisters from a subspace pocket and eyed it in a contemplative manner.

_Solutions affirmed. _With that he got to work.

00000000000

Ironhide was not a talker. He was a mech of few words and was comfortable with silence. He wasn't the type of guy who talked for talk's sake and believed actions to speak louder than words. He thought of mindless chatter as unnecessary. If you have something important to say then say it, but don't waste people's time with useless nonsense.

This was one of the reasons he could not stand Bluestreak.

Bluestreak _was _a talker. He talked _a lot_. He seemed to always be rattling on and on about some useless topic at every waking moment.

Like now.

"Bluestreak. Zip it," Ironhide drawled impatiently, but the young mech, so caught up in his own words, did not appear to hear him.

"Organic beings are really interesting. Did you know that recently human scientists made a human sheep chimera? It's a splice of 15 human DNA with 85 sheep DNA. They're calling it Man-sheep. I mean, it's kind of cool they can do that but… What was the point? I don't really see how sticking human organs in a different species could really help anything. People are weird I guess. I wonder what else people have stuck together. Maybe that's what happened with that weird, (what was it?) beaver duck thing… I wonder, what exactly is DNA anyway?"

Prowl must have been out of his mind when he planned the duty roster. It was bad enough when he had been forced to work with Tracks the other day. Now he had morning patrol duty with Bluestreak? And the worst part of the whole deal was unlike Tracks, the kid, annoying as he was, wasn't really a bad mech. So he couldn't, in good conscious, dropkick the young gunner.

He could still threaten him though.

"… I wonder what a cross between a monkey and a cat would look like. That would be kind of cool. You could call it monkitty! Or maybe a bird-bunny would be…"

"Kid, if you don't shut up, I'm gonna shoot ya." Ironhide growled, irritated.

Bluestreak quieted (thank Primus) and there was silence, but the poor Datsun started to get antsy in the uncomfortable stillness.

Before Bluestreak could open his mouth to speak again, a different noise cracked the silence.

A distant screeching sound entered their audios. It sounded like it was coming from further down the dark lit hallway. Ironhide squinted his optics, and was able to see what looked like orange and gold sparks lighting up in the darkness. "What on Cybertron…"

He didn't have time to finish as he realized the object in the distance was Skydive spinning out of control, on his back, coming at them at a high speed. Ironhide jumped out of the line of fire. He was able to grab Bluestreak by his door wings and yank him out of the way before he was bowled over by the fast moving mech.

"Sorry!" Skydive called as he slid past them and off into the distance.

A few seconds later there was a rather large 'Clang' followed by a rather unceremonious, "Oomph!" There was a brief pause before a cheery yet woozy sounding, "I'm okay now! This wall stopped me!" echoed down the corridor.

A few moments later the small jet sauntered dizzily up to them. He walked unsteadily, constantly crossing his own feet as he tried to regain his failing equilibrium, looking like he had been rolled in rainbow sherbert.

When he reached them he gave a wobbly salute, a globule of orange goo dripped from the tips of his fingertips and onto the floor in a long, stringy trail. "I have absolutely no idea where Prowl is sir!" He yelled happily. As Skydive dropped his hand to his side (the piece of orange goop was flung at Ironhide, landing on the mech's chest with a splatter), the rest of him pitched forward as well.

Ironhide stared at the crumpled heap at his feet and then looked over to Bluestreak who simply shrugged in absolute confusion. "I don't think he's getting up any time soon." They continued to gape. "Hey, what did he mean by not knowing where Prowl was?"

Ironhide didn't have time to answer as the rest of the Aerialbots came running down the hall, yelling Skydive's name frantically.

After almost sliding in gooey substance that trailed on the floor Silverbolt instantly dropped to his teammate's side and looked him over for injuries. Some of his paint had been scraped off, he was covered in an opaque, colorful goop, and his back was jagged from the skid. Otherwise, he wasn't in too bad of a condition.

"Well the mission wasn't a complete failure." Jazz stated as he, the twins and Ratchet jogged up to them. "Skydive was attacked by a non-lethal projectile. That pro'lly means that some part of Prowl is keeping the battle computer from killing us. So if he catches any of you, if anything, you pro'lly won't die." Jazz's cheery disposition never wavered through the whole speech, but the group's morale dropped considerably.

"What in the blazin' pits of Cybertron is goin' on?" Ironhide bellowed.

"Hey, Ironhide. You wouldn't have happened to see Prowl would ya?" Sideswipe asked hesitantly. Ironhide gave the red Lamborghini a look over. His whole disposition just screamed guilt.

"What the hell d'you do?" Ironhide asked flatly. Sideswipe gave him an indignant look

"What makes you think that I had anything to do with this?" he huffed, offended.

"Maybe, because this _is _your entire fault?" Sunstreaker supplied with an ornery tone.

Sideswipe gave his brother a mock-hurt look. "Nice Sunny. Right between the shoulder plates." When Sunstreaker turned away, Sideswipe pointed at him with his thumb and mouthed, 'It's his fault too. He's in denial.'

"One of you, take Skydive to the command center and, stick him next to Red Alert. The rest of you, I want you to barricade any exits leading out of the Ark. The last thing we want is to let Prowl go rampant on a human city," Jazz ordered.

Fireflight threw his unconscious, dizzy teammate over his shoulder in a fireman carry before running off to the command center. The rest of the Aerialbots warily transformed and took off in various directions. Jazz noticed briefly that not only Silverbolt was flying extremely close to the ground, probably in caution just incase they too were bombarded with liquid plastic canisters.

"Well I think it's safe to say that Prowl is, or was, in that direction somewhere." Ratchet pointed down the dark depths of the hallway.

As if to confirm the statement a small explosion was set off in the far reaches of the dark hallway and was barely visible.

"Dear Primus, what is he doing now?" Ratchet whispered grimly to himself.

"Let's get him. Ironhide, Bluestreak, come with us. Ratchet'll explain on the way," Jazz said quickly. Ironhide and Bluestreak nodded.

The six bot's ran toward where the explosion sounded off and Ratchet filled the two new additions to the team in on the situation.

Sideswipe felt two new glares boring into him.

"Will Prowl be okay?" Bluestreak asked hesitantly. He looked up to the second in command and the thought that Prowl was acting this way was unnerving.

"It's us I'm more worried about. Prowl's no pushover," Ironhide responded forebodingly.

Suddenly the old mech halted causing Sideswipe to run into him. The others we're able to stop before a chain reaction occurred.

"Ironhide! What is wrong with you?" Sideswipe rubbed his injured nasal-plate. "You're not exactly the softest cuddly thing to run my face into."

"I'm sorry y'all. I just don't think we should go this way," He spoke cautiously, backing up a step.

"Why not? It looks perfectly ok to me." Bluestreak commented. The others silently agreed. The hallway looked perfectly normal. It was as bare, empty and boring as all of the other hallways were anyway.

"I think we'd be fixin' for trouble down this way. Call it a gut instinct," he clarified in a steady voice.

"I think I'll call it the paranoia of grizzly old bucket of bolts whose mind finally rotted away from rust," Sunstreaker muttered as he walked ahead of the group.

"You know, all rude comments aside, I think Sunny's right. It's just a hall. It's not exactly the easiest place to hide or place a trap. We'll be ok," Jazz reassured the red mech.

Still wary of the hallway, Ironhide followed faithfully behind his team. They were able to reach the middle of the passageway without incident before a rather soft, ominous sounding noise graced their audios from below their feet.

Ironhide, being the seasoned old tough bastard that he was, was the first to recognize the noise for what it was, and so he shared his discomfort with three golden sage words of wisdom that only a cranky veteran can sum a situation with.

"Aw, lug nuts."

CRACK.

Suddenly, air occupied where the floor had been. The six bots plummeted into the dark depths of a hole, and didn't even have time to scream before they hit rock bottom, crashing in a tangled heap of limbs and bulky weaponry. Also, the fact that the pit was so deep made it so light couldn't reach them and they were all cloaked in a shroud of darkness.

Being the ever ready trained militia bots that they were, they threw everything methodical and organized they knew out to the wind, and plummeted into disorderly chaos.

"Ow. Ow. Ow."

"Sideswipe, your, ow, shoulder cannon…"

"You're gonna have to deal with it! I can't move until a certain _someone_ moves his skid plate off my transmission."

"I don't believe this. I just got a new finish on my paint job two days ago!"

"Would someone please mind telling me how in slaggin' hell did Prowl manage to dig through a quarter mile of metal and solid rock? In under a few minutes no less!"

"…Whose hand is that?"

"Sideswipe! SHOULDER-_CANNON_!"

"Shut the frag up, or it'll be the pile drivers you'll have to worry about!"

"All logic dictates it's improbable that one mech could dig through a quarter mile of metal and rock in under a breem! How?"

"I'm covered in dust and dirt!"

"For cryin' out loud, could all of you just shut up for an astrotick? None of yer bitchin' and moanin' is going to help the situation- that means shut up about your paint job Sunstreaker."

"But it-"

"I said shut yer trap! Sweet Primus, I feel like Rumble's been dancin' on my head." Ironhide groaned rubbing his temples.

"Sorry, Ironhide. I think that was my door wing when we came down," Bluestreak confessed sheepishly.

After much twisting and shuffling somehow the Autobots were able to untangle themselves so they were all able to stand, albeit snuggly, in the not very spacious hole.

They all stared up at the mouth of the pit, and Ironhide let out an impressed whistle at the depth. "I'd hate to say but I told y'all," he grunted as he cracked his creaking, stiff joints.

"Well ain't this comfy," Sideswipe quipped sarcastically as he was accidentally slammed into the wall by Bluestreak when the Datsun attempted shifting to get more comfortable.

"So… Anyone have any ideas on how were going to get back up there?" Sunstreaker looked up to the tiny pinprick of light, several feet up that signified the exit of the pit they were trapped in.

Someone snapped their fingers, they couldn't exactly see who it was, but guessed it was probably Bluestreak since he was the one who started talking, "Wait! Sideswipe. Do you have your jetpack still?"

"I always have my jetpack!" Sideswipe huffed.

There was cheering from Bluestreak.

"Just not right now." It went dead silent again.

"Why, pray tell, do you not have it now?" Ratchet asked rather calmly given the situation.

"Prowl confiscated it until further notice. He was pretty mad that I was practicing jet judo on Skyfire…"

Sideswipe could hear Ratchet slapping his hand over his optics. "You are such an idiot."

"He's not stupid," Sunstreaker countered in his brother's defense. Sideswipe twisted his head in the direction that his twin's voice came from. Was his brother being, dare say, protective of him? Aw, Sunny was big ol' softie. "He's been possessed by retarded ghost."

"You know what? When we get out of here, I'm gonna replace all of your polish and wax with ink and mud. You know that right?" Sideswipe snarled in response.

"Espionage, sabotage, intelligence, ambush, and deception," Jazz counted off his fingers. "We, my friends, have become victims of Guerrilla warfare."

"Well forget this. I'm not staying down here." Sideswipe roughly shoved Bluestreak away from him, into Jazz, and sized up the wall. With a mighty leap, he latched onto the wall and attempted clawing at it to stay put. It was a futile attempt for he slid right back down landing rather ungracefully on his skid plate.

Sunstreaker snickered. "Nice, Sides. Those claws of yours will definitely give Ravage a run for his money."

"Shut up. When I get out, I'm gonna leave you down here." He attempted scaling the wall again but only made it a few feet up before the slick walls sent him hurtling back down on top of an unhappy Ratchet ("Sideswipe, if you don't want me to rip out your backbone infrastructure and beat you senseless with it, you will get the hell off of me!"-Ratchet), "Primus slaggin' walls! Why the pit are they so damn smooth?"

With regular climbing not working, Sideswipe attempted a different tactic. Since the hole was oval shaped he scooted himself to one of the narrower parts and jumped. He caught either side of the walls with his legs and arms in a spread eagle fashion. After staying like that a few seconds he realized he wasn't sliding and grinned triumphantly.

"Do you realize how stupid you probably look?" Sunstreaker asked as he stared at his brother's silhouette.

"Hey, if it's stupid and it works, it's not stupid now is it?" Sideswipe remarked cheekily.

Using his arms to keep in place, Sideswipe would jump his legs up a few inches before catching the wall again, and would then use his legs to propel himself up slightly. After his hands were secure on the wall again, he would shimmy his legs up again and would repeat the process. He continued this pattern successfully for a few minutes before his footing slipped and he came crashing back down. The Autobots below pressed themselves as close to the walls of the cavern as possible so they weren't flattened by the red mech's landing.

A stream of colorful English, Cybertronian and German curse words spewed from the red melee warrior's mouth. After letting his verbal frustration filter out of him, he rolled over and flopped on his back. He stared miserably at the glimmer of light from above, but it was eclipsed by his brother's head.

Sunstreaker crouched down, letting his forearms rest on his knees as he stared over his brother's face. "It didn't work. It was stupid."

"At least I tried something." Sideswipe attempted flicking his brother's face but the yellow mech reeled back just in time to avoid it.

Ratchet lightly swept his hand against the smooth wall and growled as realization dawned. "Aw, Dammit. I know how Prowl did it now. He didn't dig this hole. He burned it."

"He burned a hole. Using what?" Sideswipe propped himself up with his elbows.

"It's a chemical. The name escapes me at the moment, but it causes a chain reaction that creates a heat hot enough to eat away at nearly anything. It's like acid almost, and the reaction can't be stopped easily so it just keeps going, burning whatever it touches. I remember now; it's called thermite. If I'm right, we're lucky we fell in here after the reaction cooled and stopped or we'd all be a molten pile of metal and paint."

"Where did he get a hold of anything like that?" Bluestreak asked frightfully as he tried valiantly to drive away the images in his head of himself as a puddle of silver and red.

"The only place I know of that has anything remotely like that would be…" Ratchet went silent for a moment. "…Wheeljack's lab." The words left his mouth uncomfortably.

"Well ain't this hunky-dory. Not only does he have half of Ratchet's medical what's-its, now he has free reign over Wheeljack's slag too?" Ironhide moaned. "And we still have no idea on how ta get outa this pit."

"I have a grappling hook," Jazz stated simply. All other occupants of the hole stared where they assumed Jazz was standing.

"You have a… Why didn't you say that before?" Sunstreaker screamed in Jazz's general direction.

"Hey, ya'll knew I had it, but none of ya asked. 'Sides, it was fun watching Siders attempt'n rock climbing."

Before the Lambotwins could pounce on Jazz, a small light lit up on the communications officer's forearm and a voice sounded from his comlink.

"Autobot Bumblebee to Jazz. Autobot Bumblebee to Jazz," the minibot's voice echoed in the deep hole. There was confusion laced with worry in his voice.

"Hey, Bee. Talk ta me," Jazz replied, turning away from the angry occupants of the hole.

"Jazz? I'm really sorry about calling this early. I tried contacting Prowl but for some reason I couldn't get through-"

"Don't worry about it, Kid. Just tell me the problem." Jazz began releasing his tow line from his arm.

"Well, I'm calling to report a few things actually. A breem ago, I found Perceptor, Huffer, Beachcomber and Blaster unconscious in front of the weapons room."

"Are they ok?" Ironhide asked from behind Jazz. The other Autobots were also beginning to crowd around the Saboteur to listen in on the conversation.

"Well, they appear to have been knocked out with some kind of electrical charge, but they're fine. The other problem's with the Dinobots."

Everyone's oil ran cold.

"Dinobots?" Bluestreak's voice's pitch spiked up an octave as he parroted the word.

"What's wrong with the Dinobots?" Jazz heard his own voice squeak slightly.

"Well they're… Swoop, get your head out of my face; I'm telling them! Well anyway, I was near the weapon's bay when Swoop came to me, really upset about something, and took me to the Dinobot's quarters. Let me tell you there is something wrong with them. They're acting really weird. I mean really, really weird. Something's causing them to- GYAAH!" There was the sound of shattering glass and the line went dead. This thoroughly alarmed the occupants of the hole.

"Bee? Bee!" Jazz called frantically. "BEE!" he cried into the comlink but there was no reply.

"Okay that's it! This whole hootenanny has gotten way outa hand! Jazz, get us outa this damn hole!" Ironhide yelled as he slammed his fist into the wall.

"I'm working on it!" Jazz swung his grappling hook up with much force so it was able to reach the lip of the hole. When the hook was secure they began their assent.

If only they knew what would be waiting for them above.

0000000000000000

Second chapter done! Geeze the chapters just get longer and longer. I hope I didn't bore you all with the length.

Any who, Prowl sure causes a lot of damage in a short time, doesn't he? And man, I love Ironhide. He's such a cranky old bastard XD.

And now the Dinobots are added into the mix. Whatever happened to poor Bee?

Reviews are loved, constructive criticism is appreciated


	3. Chemical warfare

Let us backtrack to earlier

School is starting Monday D:

Thank you for all of the reviews everyone! I'm glad people are enjoying the story.

Special thanks to my Beta Lady Sunflower. You were a ton of help!

Disclaimer: Don't own, never will. Plot is mine and that's about it.

_00000000_

_In order to find out what happened to our little Bumblebee Let us backtrack to earlier before and during the pit incident... _

Bumblebee was one of the few mechs who was a morning 'bot, and actually woke out of recharge early, even if he didn't have a morning shift, simply to get up. He enjoyed the serene calmness of daybreak, the coolness of the air, the quietness of the Ark, but what he loved most about dawn was watching the sun rise.

Sunrise was an experience that they did not have on Cybertron. His home world used to circle a binary star in Alpha Centauri, but had long since been knocked out of orbit. So, their planet merely drifted in space. That made it difficult to have a sunrise since there was no sun to speak of anywhere nearby.

It was something he would miss when he had to go back to Cybertron, and he made an effort to get up every morning to view the wondrous phenomenon.

Unfortunately, he only accomplished this about every other morning. Bumblebee was not one of the most directionally savvy bots in the Ark, and had an unfortunate habit of getting hopelessly lost in the morning darkness.

Sometimes he wished he was programmed a better GPS system.

By some stroke of luck he was able to wander into the C hall which meant he was very close to the weapons bay. If he was able to reach there, he could figure out where the base's entrance was.

He cut across the hallway and ran past the weapons chamber's door.

Then his foot snagged something, and his path forward was redirected to the floor. "Ow! What did-" He pulled his legs up and stared dumbly at the lump he had tripped over.

It was Huffer.

Perceptor, Beachcomber, Blaster and Huffer were sprawled unconscious in front of the massive chamber's door. The small, yellow bot didn't hesitate to crawl to his fallen comrades sides.

Huffer, being the closest to his size, was the easiest to move. So, Bumblebee went to him first. "Huffer?" Bee flipped the minibot over and then twisted his face in disgust. Pink crumbs and half eaten bits of energon were dripping from his mouth. "Ew." He gently set Huffer back down and went to Blaster instead.

At the base of Blaster's neck, there was a tiny pin prick, and around the small hole were barely noticeable, light colored, track like marks. It sparked briefly before calming again. In curiosity, Bumblebee lightly touched the prick only to get shocked slightly by static electricity. He wasn't an expert on this type of thing but from being in battle so much he was able to recognize the symptoms as being some type of electrical discharge. That probably overwhelmed the circuits of his comrades. But still… "What happened?" he wondered as he went to the others to see find they were all in the same state.

Luckily they didn't appear to be in anything other then a temporary stasis, but it was still a bit off setting to find four Autobot warriors forcibly knocked offline in front of the weapons chamber, especially this early in the morning. It was strange enough a situation to be necessary to report.

He accessed his comlink. "Autobot Bumblebee to Prowl. Autobot Bumblebee to Prowl." There was no response. "Prowl? Are you up?" The line remained dead.

Something was wrong. He stood and looked around. Suddenly the serene calmness of morning felt eerie and tense. You could almost cut the tension with a laser scalpel…

"Autobot!"

"YAAHH!" Bumblebee shrieked and jumped around so quickly his feet got tangled over each other and he ended up crashing into the ground for the second time. He looked up to see large something hovering over head. "Swoop!"

The Dinobot transformed from his Pteranodon mode to his mech form midair and landed on his feet. "What are you doing up?" Bumblebee attempted recollecting himself and rose to a stand.

"You, Autobot, must help!" he cried, panicked. "Them, Dinobots…something wrong."

"T-the Dinobots?" Bumblebee stuttered and suddenly wished he was somewhere else. Those transformers were huge by transformer standards, and it would be easy for them to make a yellow smear out of him. "What's wrong with them?"

"Me, Swoop, not know!" the Pteranodon cried, obviously distraught. "Us, Dinobots, minding own business, watching morning cartoons. Then weird purple stuff floated through vents." He sniffled. "Me, Swoop, not trust cloud. Me flew above. Then, them, Dinobots, start acting weird. Come quick!"

"Swoop. I'm not sure I'm the best one to help you. Let's go find-" he was cut off fervidly by Swoop.

"No! You only Autobot me find. We go now," Swoop argued vehemently. "Help?"

The Dinoformer gave him a rather heartbreaking look which made Bumblebee groan. What did the Dinobot expect him to do? Couldn't he wake some one else up? Yet, if the situation was bad, it would need someone to act immediately, and Bee wasn't one to leave his fellow Autobots in a bad situation (even if said Autobots made a habit of almost stepping on him).

"I'll go look to see what's wrong," Bee caved though dismally. "And then we'll report this to Prowl, okay?" Swoop nodded furiously, and then took off in the direction of the Dinobots' quarters.

Taking one look at the other unconscious four Bee decided they would be okay for now. HE transformed and followed closely behind the flyer.

It looked like he wouldn't get to see the sunrise after all.

00000000

_Scanning… Scanning…_

_Presences affirmed. Targets located. Profiling subjects, searching for match in back up files._

_Searching… Loading…_

_Files located._

_Subject A- Autobot Bumblebee: Code reference: Oversight. Occupation: Spy. Deceptively skilled in the art of espionage and is a capable covert operator. Often carries the front of ignorance to throw off both enemies and allies alike. Misleadingly dangerous and severely underestimated._

_Subject B- Autobot Swoop: Code reference: Flapper. Occupation: subgroup/Dinobot flyer. Skilled flyer with abnormally low IQ. Most passive of the subgroup Dinobots yet dangerous in aerial combat. Carries several projectiles on his person._

_Statuses: Interfering. Detrimental to the objective.. _

_Sub-objective: Remove detriments_

00000000

When they approached the Dinobots' quarters, Bee turned to Swoop. "Swoop. I know you're worried about them but you need to be really quiet. We're only observing, okay?" Bumblebee stressed gently to his large companion.

"Me, Swoop, understand," the Pteranodon whispered in a hushed tone before crouching down. Bumblebee slowly looked over around the corner of the open door.

He wasn't sure what to make of the scene.

"Me, Grimlock, badass!" the T-Rex roared, pumping his fists into the air before staggering drunkenly to the side in a brief lapse.

"Me, Shlag better. Me ish greatesht warrior!" the triceratops slurred from his position on the floor, before letting loose a fiery hiccup.

"Eheheh. Me Snarl prickly…" Snarl was laying on his side, in robot mode, with his knees up to his chest. He admiringly poked the spikes protruding from his leg, punctuating each touch with a dull, "Ow."

Bumblebee's face faulted. "…what is going on?" he whispered softly to himself. Only Sludge seamed relatively normal…except that he was in a heated conversation with the wall, but then again, Sludge was never the brightest crayon in the box.

"You not greatest. Me, Grimlock, is greatest!" the Dinobot leader disputed irately.

"You not greatesht. Shlag am!" was the retort.

"Grimlock am!"

"Shlag am!"

"Grimlock am!

"Shlag (hiccupflame) am!"

"Grimlock, say we solve this dema… demi… Me say we break things."

"Shlag agreesh. Me shlay we (hic) breakshes him."

Bumblebee jumped with a start as the violent dinosaur pointed to his seemingly hidden position. How was it that the bots seemed to be more attentive and observant in their hazy state then when clear-headed?

Bumblebee felt his Spark freeze as the T-Rex (should've been T-Wrecks) gave him an evil grin.

"Uh-oh," as soon as Bee said that the two Dinobots charged for the door.

The Dinobots were by no means slow, at _all_, and before the small, yellow spy could realize what was happening they were almost upon him.

Luckily he must've done something to be in Primus's favor because both Dinobots missed the door by several feet and slammed into the wall, resulting in a loud CLANG. He allowed himself a brief moment to gape before turning to Swoop and yanking the Dinobot by the hand. "Come on, Swoop! We need to inform the others." Swoop nodded and transformed.

"Autobot Bumblebee to Prowl. Come on Prowl!" Bee grimaced as he ran. It wasn't like Prowl to not answer. "Never mind, then." He changed the frequency. "Autobot Bumblebee to Jazz. Autobot Bumblebee to Jazz."

"_Hey Bee. Talk ta me,"_ Jazz's melodious voice wafted through the link. Bumblebee felt relief wash over him.

"Jazz? I'm really sorry about calling this early. I tried contacting Prowl but for some reason I couldn't get through-"

Jazz cut him off. _"Don't worry about it, Kid. Just tell me the problem."_

"Well, I'm calling to report a few things actually. A breem ago, I found Perceptor, Huffer, Beachcomber and Blaster unconscious in front of the weapons room."

"_Are they ok?"_ Ironhide's voice came through the line as well, surprising Bee. There was scuffling in the background that also suggested others were with Jazz as well.

"Well, they appear to have been knocked out with some kind of electrical charge, but they're fine. The other problem's with the Dinobots." He could here Bluestreak's voice yelp in the background.

"_What's wrong with the Dinobots?"_ Jazz's voice cracked slightly

"Well they're…" Suddenly Swoop crowded toward Bumblebee's arm so he could listen better. "Swoop, get your head out of my face; I'm telling them!" He shoved the Pteranodon's head away. "Well anyway, I was near the weapon's bay when Swoop came to me, really upset about something, and took me to the Dinobots' quarters. Let me tell you, there is something wrong with them. They're acting really weird. I mean really, really weird. Something's causing them to- GYAAH!" A glass canister exploded right between him and Swoop, and plumes of purple smoke bellowed out, engulfing the two Autobots in the cloud.

Suddenly it was as if his senses were overwhelmed by a hazy screen. Yet over the miasma of dizziness and vertigo, he could almost swear he could see Prowl's silhouette walking away.

00000000

It took several minutes, but the Autobots were able to pull themselves out of the pit thanks to Jazz's grappling hook.

"Next time your gut instinct kicks in, I'll believe you," Sunstreaker told Ironhide as he scrutinized his faintly scraped up paintjob distastefully.

"We need to find Bee and Swoop, first and see if they're okay," Jazz said.

"But what about the Dinobots?" Bluestreak questioned unenthusiastically.

"Bluestreak and Ironhide, you both go check out the Dinobots' quarters. We'll go lookin' for Bee," Jazz stated.

"You heard the mech. Let's getta move on." Ironhide roughly yanked Bluestreak with him.

00000000

It didn't take very long for the others to find Bumblebee and Swoop.

Swoop was circling like a vulture, shakily in strange oblique ellipses, above an unmoving Bumblebee. Glass littered the ground around the minibot.

"Bumblebee!" Jazz called, worried for his little friend's wellbeing. He helped prop the minibot up, and was surprised to see that Bee was grinning at him. Then, without warning, the small yellow spy began to laugh hysterically. Jazz stared at him quizzically. "Bee?"

"The walls are (snicker) orange." Bee could barely get the words out of his mouth before he began cackling insanely. "Primus my… hahaha…sides! Hahahaha…it huuurts…" And he continued his fit of giggles.

The Lambotwins stared, rightly disturbed, as they watched Bumblebee laugh insanely at nothing. Jazz shot them a worried look and they could only meet it with their own confusion.

Whump.

Swoop ended his circling by crashing into the wall. He stood up dizzily, shook himself and then took flight again only for head to meet wall once again.

"Okay. I know for a fact that none of Dinobots are this stupid, and Swoop is the smartest one of them. Something is really wrong." Ratchet caught Swoop by one of his wing before he could ram himself in the wall again. The Pteranodon went limp.

"Swoop no remember flying underwater," he moaned, lightheaded.

"Water! Hahahahaha!" Bee began guffawing again.

"Hello mister fishy." Swoop stared dazedly at Ratchet. "You like swimming? I no like swimming. Me enjoy flying better. See?" Swoop wriggled himself from Ratchet's grip, transformed to robot mode, and jumped into the air before falling back down onto the ground. He waved his arms in a flapping motion. "See? Me, Swoop, flying!"

"Fly…hahahahahaha!" Bumblebee doubled over, out of Jazz's grasp and onto the floor. "Okay, ehehe… spinning colors… someone stop the room now. I'd like to... teehee… get off..." Bumblebee paused, gasping and seemingly out of the strength to laugh. "…orange…" And then he began another bout of laughter, slamming the ground with his fists.

"Ratchet, what's wrong with 'um?" Jazz asked calmly despite the fact that he was thoroughly alarmed.

Ratchet inspected Swoop, who was still flapping his arms on the ground, and noticed a very light purple film on his armor. Ratchet drew a finger across Swoops arm to inspect the grimy residue. "What is this?"

"_Autobot Ironhide to Ratchet."_ Ratchet's comlink blinked to life.

"What is it, Ironhide," Ratchet inquired.

"_It's… Bluestreak! Your mindless chatter is gonna give our position away. Don't you know nothin' about stealth?"_ Ironhide grumbled.

"Uh. Oh, I'm sorry." The Datsun's voice quieted in the background.

"_Well, the Dinobots have gotten into some interesting coffin varnish. It looks like they're walking on a slant,_" Ironhide spoke.

"_They're acting loopy."_ Bluestreak paused. _"Well, loopier then normal."_

"Ironhide. We found Bee. What's wrong with the Dinobots?" Jazz asked.

"_They're acting…over-energized,"_ Ironhide spoke through the link.

On his side, Jazz moaned. "Prowl, you didn't." He opened his own comlink. "Wheeljack?"

"_Hey there, Jazz!"_ Wheeljack's cheerful voice hailed through the connection.

"Hey, Jack. I've got a question for ya."

"_Shoot away."_

"You've been workin' on any, uh, strange chemical type thingies that might, I don't know, inebriate a mech?" The line was silent for a moment. "Jack?"

"_Weeeell…not exactly,"_ he started off hesitantly. "_At least that's not what it was supposed to do, but I guess…"_

"Stop being ambiguous and get to the point, Wheeljack!" Ratchet seethed.

"Ambiguous…ahahahaha!!" Bumblebee chortled.

"_You see, I gotta hold of these ores called rare Earth elements and got around to working with one of um in particular called lanthanum. Interesting molecular structure, you can't find anything like it on Cybertron. Anyway, I was tinkering around with it, and after some interesting tests, found out it could be converted to a liquid or gaseous form. Then when mixed in with a special blend of high-grade with traces of promethium, it had very toxic properties; I decided to call it TX-86942. So I thought, hey, maybe we could use this against the Decepticons! Unfortunately, it didn't work as I hoped. Instead of knocking things offline it sort of just… gives them a buzz."_

"Well… now we know the problem. Thanks, Jack."

"_Wait! Before you go could you drop by the med-"_

Jazz disconnected the line.

"Wait a minute… that means…holy scraggin' Primus, the Dinobots are high," Sideswipe moaned.

Jazz had a thoughtful look across his face. "Huh. Doped-up Dinobots. That's a good one, Prowl. Jazz applauds ya'."

"Prowl must've gotten Bee and Swoop with the same thing." The medic wiped the purple residue off of his finger. "Well now what?" he asked crossly.

"We'll fight fire with fire." Jazz let an amused grin spread across his features.

"If you have a bunch of giant, crazy, not drunk Dinobots shoved somewhere up your exhaust pipe, please, don't hesitate to tell us," Sunstreaker growled.

"Nope. Here's the plan."

First in the beginning, it was the idea. And then this theoretical idea became a loose, abstract plan. Then the plan was relayed by Jazz and told to Sunstreaker who in his immortal words spoke: "This plan doth sucketh."

"Aw, c'mon. It ain't that bad." Jazz attempted to defend his idea.

"Nope, I gotta agree with Sunny here. That does sound like it sucks." Sideswipe backed his brother up.

"Can't we come up with something better than that?" Sunstreaker frowned.

"Well, the guy who normally comes up with the plans is currently trying to kill us all so you're going to have to deal with what you can get." Jazz shrugged.

"Yeah, but you want to give them _more_ of that slag?!" Sideswipe argued adamantly.

"You guys are missin' the bigger picture." Jazz waved his hands in emphasis. "Look, for example. What happens when Brawn gets over-energized?"

"…he starts singing Mariah Carry?" Sideswipe suggested.

"No, what happens after that?" Jazz smiled, amused.

"He passes out." Sunstreaker shrugged.

Then the words sunk in and everyone finally understood Jazz's deceptive brilliance.

"Ah."

"Hey, what'll we do about Swoop and Bee?" Sideswipe pointed a finger to the cackling Autobot and the confused, dazed Dinobot.

"Ironhide," Ratchet started on his comlink, "I'm sending you coordinates on where to find Bumblebee and Swoop. Take them to the command center and wait for us there, okay?" Ironhide grunted in agreement. "Bluestreak, you stay at the Dinobots quarters and wait for Jazz. I'll go to Wheeljack's lab and get the chemical. I think I remember seeing him working on it a while ago…also, the rest up you would end up blowing the Ark sky high in there."

"Okay everyone," Jazz began addressing his dysfunctional troops, "Ratchet will go to Wheeljack's lab to get more of that chemical, alright? So we need to keep the Dinobots in one place until he gets back. It can't be that hard."

0000000000

"ABORT! ABORT!"

Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Sideswipe threw themselves against the doors of the Dinobots' quarters in an attempt to trap the Dinobots within the room. They braced themselves as a heavy body crashed into the other side, knocking the twins and the gunner back several feet before they rammed their own bodies against it to barricade it again.

"Oh yeah, Jazz! Not hard at all!" Sunstreaker yelled sarcastically.

The plan had failed.

They had meant to lock the Dinobots in their room until Ratchet got back, but unfortunately it didn't work out that way. Before they could lock the door securely, the Dinobots caught on to their presence and charged.

"Is this door feeling warm to anyone, or is it just me?" Bluestreak wondered aloud. The twins also noticed the spike of heat emitting from the usual cool metal. It got hotter and hotter until…

"Slag!" Sunstreaker yelled as he and the other two recoiled from the door in pain. The metal went from a warm, glowing red, to a white hot and then finally melted to a pool of molten metal. Slag had burned the door down.

The Dinobots began pushing and tearing down the remains of the door. All of them were attempting to shove through the frame at the same time.

"Change of plans! Everyone, distract the Dinobots until Ratchet gets back!" Jazz yelled.

"Distract them? How the hell are we supposed to do that?" Sideswipe began backing away from the door.

"It don't matter! Just don't let them catch you!" And with that last note from Jazz, the Dinobots stumbled through the door frame and began their chase.

The four Autobots split off in different directions. Each Dinobot followed one of them respectively.

00000000

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker subconsciously followed each other down one of the hallways with Snarl hot on there heals.

They were torn on what to do. They could easily lose the Dinobot if they transformed into vehicle mode, but if they lost the Dinobot, who knows where he would end up. Then they would have to face Ratchet, whose good graces they were not in. Unfortunately, while they could run pretty darn fast in their bipedal modes, Snarl wasn't particularly slow in his robot form either, and they had no intention of being caught by the drunken Dinobot.

Especially because in this state, Snarl would be unpredictable.

"Primus. dangit, we hit a dead-end." Sideswipe skid to a halt as did Sunstreaker. Lo and behold, the hallway ended ahead of them. Now they had no where to go.

Snarl stopped as well and stood staring at the twins, scrutinizing each of them.

"Well, I'll be scrapped if we go down with out a fight!" Sunstreaker readied himself for combat as did Sideswipe.

Snarl didn't appear to care about their offensive stances. He looked at Sideswipe and growled, but then when he looked at Sunstreaker, he grinned goofily.

"Gold one is pretty," he stated cheerily. The twins had to double take.

"What?" Sideswipe was completely confounded. Snarl looked at Sideswipe and scowled.

"Me, Snarl, no like red one. Red one look like rust," he spat hostilely at Sideswipe.

"Hey!" Sideswipe retorted indigently.

Snarl walked closer to the two, invading Sunstreaker's personal bubble. "You shiny." Snarl commented airily.

"What the heck?" Sunstreaker was taken aback, "Dinobots don't giggle. You in particular don't giggle - Hell, you barely _talk_. What the frag is wrong with you?"

"It must be that chemical Wheeljack made," Sideswipe suggested.

"You, sparkly like sun." Sunstreaker's berating went through one of Slag's audio sensors and out the other. "You Snarl's bestest friend!" And with that Snarl swooped down, catching an off-guard Sunstreaker in a bear hug from behind.

"What the - get him OFF!" Sunstreaker shrieked as he was hoisted into the air and crushed against Snarl's chest plate. He attempted kicking free of Snarl's grasp but the stegosaur transformer was too strong even for the melee warrior. "Sideswipe!"

"Snarl, put Sunstreaker down right now!" Sideswipe felt like a parent reprimanding his kid for picking up a strange item out of the trash. "Put him down!"

"No! Me no like you!" He growled viciously at Sideswipe.

"Get your slaggin' hands off of my brother!" Sideswipe attempted jumping to the rescue. Snarl turned violently away from Sideswipe, causing the red warrior to run into his back and ricochet off of it.

"No! Sunshine my friend! Not you!" he growled angrily like a possessive child, backpedaling away from a slightly dazed Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker screeched in frustration. It was an unspoken rule that only Sideswipe could give nicknames to his twin without getting maimed or yelled at because, well, he was his twin. That was it…and Jazz too, but that's just because Jazz was awesome that way. All others would face his wrath, and Snarl just bumped himself to the top of that list.

Now if only he could only touch the ground.

"When I get my hands free your skid plate is mine, you hear! I'm gonna tear every one of those fragging spikes out of your body and shove them down your vocal processors!" Sunstreaker raged as he writhed and kicked his legs in the air in an attempt to free himself. "LET ME DOWN! You're a dead 'bot walking!"

"Snarl's friend, Sunflower, loud…"

"I'M NOT A FRIGGIN SUNFLOWER, PRIMUS DAMNIT!" That was the straw that broke the camel's back, and Sunstreaker let open a can of whoop ass. Sunstreaker freed his arms and drove both of his elbows down on Snarl's hands, breaking the grip the Stegosaurus had on him. The second his feet touched the ground, he grabbed one of the Dinobot's shoulders, one of his arms, and flipped the larger 'bot over his shoulders and into a wall.

Snarl slammed into the wall and slid down, landing on his shoulder blades before tipping over on to his side. He slowly lifted himself onto his knees and looked dejectedly at Sunstreaker.

"Snarl (sniff) just want to be friend with shiny gold one. Why shiny one so (sniff) mean to, me, Snarl?" Sunstreaker froze not expecting that response from the usually battle happy, antisocial mech.

"Now look what you've done!" Sideswipe chastised his brother, feeling bad for the depressed giant.

"He had it coming," Sunstreaker snapped, somewhat teed-off still.

"You made him sad. Way to go Sunny." Sideswipe folded his arms over.

"No. Just no." Sunstreaker pinched the bridge of his nose. "I want no bastardizations of my name right now. It's Sunstreaker. Say it with me. Sun-_streaker_."

"Whatever you say, _Sunshine_." Sideswipe ignored the wicked glare he was receiving.

Both of them turned their attentions to Snarl as the stegosaur let out a deep guttural growl.

"You, Shiny, mean to Snarl." He turned his sniffling gaze from Sunstreaker to Sideswipe. His look of despair changed to one of rage. "And it your fault! Me, Snarl, am going to break Rust looking one now! Me going to smash red one!" And with that the Dinobot roared and charged towards Sideswipe.

"Hey, wait. Sunstreaker throws you and I'm the one you want to go after? This is an injustice!" Sideswipe yipped and scampered away from the approaching Dinobot.

"Snarl going to make red bug shields and hubcaps!" Snarl cackled insanely as he pursued the fleeing warrior.

"Hang on, Sideswipe! Get away from my brother, you son of a dishwasher!" Sunstreaker chased after Snarl's retreating form.

0000000

Ratchet entered Wheeljack's lab and grimaced with distaste. The place looked like a nuclear testing ground.

The walls and the floors had charred, ashen spots (some of them with Wheeljack's silhouette imprinted in them) where explosions had gone off. Scrap metal and various electronic pieces littered the floor. Inventions were scattered haphazardly on tables and shelves with no rhyme or reason.

The place was a pigsty.

Still, he wasn't there to reprimand Wheeljack's living habits. He was there to find something, and not set off an explosive chain reaction in the process.

He walked to the shelf where Wheeljack kept his chemicals and elemental ores.

There were hundreds upon hundreds of bottles and canisters, and none of them seamed to be placed in any type of chronological order or organized manner. At least they were labeled on the shelf…

Ratchet growled. It looked like things were going to take longer than he thought.

He hoped the others were holding out ok.

000000

Bluestreak was cornered by Sludge. He had no where to go, and no way to defend himself (his gun was in his room on a desk). He was a sniper, for Primus's sake! He did not specialize in any form of hand-to-hand. While he was able to defend himself decently against normal Decepticons, he knew he stood no chance against a Dinobot. That and he did not want to engage in combat against a fellow Autobot, especially if they weren't in a clear state of mind.

Although, he would probably need more help in a fight against Sludge then Sludge would against him.

He tried to back himself up further into the wall in a futile attempt to get as far away as possible from the drunken Brontosaurus, knowing that he stood about as good a chance as a tin toy soldier thrown into a furnace. As the Dino-former came closer, he cringed.

"I'm gonna die," he moaned, shutting his optics off as the dinosaur opened his mouth. This was it. The tin soldier was about to be melted down to scrap by the infernal blaze. Sludge was going to tear him apart.

"Quantum mechanics is the branch of mathematical physics treating atomic and subatomic systems and their interaction with radiation in terms of observable quantities."

Bluestreak put his optics back online and stared at the being in front if him completely dumbstruck. "Huh?" he masterfully articulated.

Sludge transformed and dropped himself onto the floor in sitting position, causing a tremor to go through the ground. "It is based on the observation that all forms of energy are released in discrete units or bundles called 'quanta'. Remarkably, quantum theory typically permits only probable or statistical calculation of the observed features of subatomic particles, understood in terms of wave functions."

"I…you…wha?" Bluestreak hit his right audio receptor a few times with the palm of his hand in order to loosen up anything that may have infringed on his hearing. This was _Sludge _of all Dinobots. He couldn't have heard any of that right…

"The Schrödinger equation plays the role in quantum mechanics that Newton's laws and conservation of energy serve in classical mechanics -- i.e., it predicts the future behavior of a dynamic system, and is a wave equation in terms of the wave function which predicts analytically and precisely the probability of events or outcomes," Sludge rattled on happily, speaking of the subject as it was the best thing since Christmas.

"That's, uh, nice?" Bluestreak, slowly and subtly, tried scooting himself out of the corner. However, Sludge immediately caught on to his attempt and slammed both of his hands on either side of the Datsun's head. The poor gunner to nearly jump out of his casing.

"Sludge not done talking," the Brontosaurus hissed menacingly. Bluestreak raised his hands up in defense.

"Okay, okay! I won't… I'm not going anywhere!" When Sludge growled in suspicion, Bluestreak threw his hands protectively over his head. "I'm sorry! I'll listen! I'll listen! It's fine, continue!" he cried desperately.

Satisfied, Sludge snorted happily and propelled himself backwards into a sitting position, albeit closer to Bluestreak than he was before. After he made himself comfortable, he proceeded with his one-way discussion. "In the formalism of quantum mechanics, the state of a system at a given time is described by a complex wave function (sometimes referred to as orbitals in the case of atomic electrons), and more generally, elements of a complex vector space…"

Poor Bluestreak could only nod cautiously when he thought appropriate, and hope that Sludge wouldn't attempt experimenting the laws of quantum physics on him by smashing him into little subatomic particles.

0000000

Ratchet finally located the chemical he needed, but not before finding out something rather disturbing.

He found a blank spot on the shelf where some of the chemicals Prowl had taken had been.

'Cyclotrimethylenetrinitramine' is what the blank space read. It was substance also known as RDX.

"Oh, _hell_ no."

RDX was an explosive nitrosamine that was used in some of the most powerful explosives humans used in their weaponry.

Ratchet rushed out of Wheeljack's lab.

Little did he know, he was being watched.

_Welder Harpy's status: detrimental. Interfering with the main sub-objective_

_Solution: Take down Welder Harpy._

0000000

"First one to break Autobot greatest warrior!"

Jazz launched himself into the air to avoid being sandwiched by both Slag and Grimlock.

Go figure that the two most violent Dinobots went after him. Not only that, but they seemed to have made a contest out of his destruction.

Jazz danced away from one of Grimlock's short arms as the T-Rex attempted latching on to one of his ankles.

Grimlock roared, untangling himself from Slag, only to trip himself back onto the ground.

"Shlag (hic) gonna shmash Autobot firsht." Jazz had to avoid the fiery discharge from the Triceratop's mouth, before vaulting over Slag's tail to avoid being hit by the appendage. He wasted no time in rushing away from the Dinoformer.

"Wait! Come back, Autobot! Me, Grimlock, want to crush you!" Somehow Grimlock got in front of Jazz and was lumbering toward him. The saboteur hit the deck and slid between the T-Rex's legs before leaping right back up and heading in the opposite direction. Grimlock stood confused for a moment, trying to process where the Autobot had gone.

"I like my chassis in one piece, thank you!"

Grimlock turned around and lunged at Jazz but, luckily for the saboteur, his impaired state affected his depth perspective so he was off by several feet.

"I don't see how destroyin' me…" Jazz gracefully somersaulted over Slag's head as the Dinobot attempted head butting him "… will prove who's stronger." He landed on Slag's back and hopped off, landing softly on the ground before turning around and facing them both. "Think 'bout it. I'm obviously not gonna be that much of a challenge to fight."

They both paused, looking like they were trying to figure out an advanced trigonometry question as they processed Jazz's words. Jazz took a quick step back to avoid another one of Slag's flaming hiccups.

"Small Autobot right," Grimlock started. "He not challenge."

"Right. So, if ya two wanna find out who's stronger between _you_ _two_, who should ya fight?" Jazz questioned, avoiding being stepped on as Grimlock teetered to the side. The Dinobots halted and thought about it.

"Grimlock not need challenge. Grimlock is strongest anyway!" Apparently the Dinobot leader completely forgot why they were chasing Jazz in the first place.

Slag took offense.

"You not! Shlag am strongesht!" Slag transformed to his robot form and pointed an accusing finger at his leader.

This was not entirely what Jazz had in mind, but at least the Dinobots were distracted and not trying to make air fresheners out of him (minty, Jazzy freshness in every one!).

"Slag not strongest. Petro-rabbits stronger then Slag," the T-Rex stated blearily as he swayed.

"You, Grimlosh, want a piece of Shlag?" the Triceratops egged on.

"You waste of Grimlock's time. Me stronger." Grimlock transformed to his mech form and staggered drunkenly away from the other.

"Robot chicken," Slag murmured under his breath. Grimlock froze.

"What you say?" Grimlock growled as he careened back to face Slag.

"Shlag shlay you robot chicken! Brawk, brawk, (blazing-hic) brawk!" Slag waved his elbows in a flapping motion.

"Grimlock not robot chicken. Grimlock king! You, Slag, are scaredy techno-cat!"

"Me, Shlag, (hic) give you, Grimlosh, free shlot." The Triceratops turned a cheek to Grimlock and pointed at it mockingly. That infuriated the T-rex.

"Me, Grimlock, no need free shot. Slag need free shot to stand chance."

"Shlag no need free hit! Grimlosh do!"

"Slag do!"

"Grimlosh (hic) do!

"Slag!"

"How about…firsht one to (hic) get Autobot not (hic) need free hit!"

Jazz sighed as the two dinosaur transformers turned their sights on him again.

Go figure.

"Jazz, hit the deck!" A voice called from behind. The black and white mech grinned as he dove to the ground just as something soared overhead before shattering between the two Dinobots.

Here comes the calvary.

0000000

"What the heck did I do to piss you off?" Sideswipe yelled keeping a safe distance in front of Snarl.

"You make shiny one mean to Snarl!"

"I did not. He's always mean out of his own accord!"

"You, take that back! Shiny one not mean! Rusty one make shiny one mad at Snarl!"

"I have a name, dammit! It's not shiny one. It's not Sunshine. It's not Sunny! It's _Sunstreaker_! SUN_STREAKER_!" Sunstreaker roared from the back of the line. He was ignored by the two in front of him.

"So basically, you're jealous," Sideswipe cackled as he streaked down the hallway.

"Not jealous," Snarl stated softly in denial.

"Sunstreaker! Snarl is jealous of me!" Sideswipe called back to his brother.

"Not jealous!" Snarl proclaimed louder this time.

"Jealous, jealous, jealous!" Sideswipe taunted merrily.

Sunstreaker gave him an 'are-you-stupid-wait-don't-answer-that' look. Sideswipe found out why.

Snarl gave a frustrated yell, and, with a burst of power, he tackled Sideswipe roughly to the ground. Sunstreaker, worried for his brother's safety (not that he would ever admit it), added himself to the dog pile in an attempt to pull his twin from the Dinobot's grasp.

He yanked Sideswipe away and dragged him back just as something whizzed over his head, hitting Snarl in the face. There was an explosion of glass and a purple cloud engulfed Snarl's head.

The Dinobot swayed briefly before toppling over unconscious and snoring.

"You guys need help?" The twins turned their heads in the direction of the voice.

"Jazz!" Sideswipe smiled happily. Ratchet stood behind Jazz. He had a small glass ball in his hand that had a thick purple smoke floating inside.

"Three down. One to go," Ratchet stated simply.

0000000

They found Bluestreak huddled in a corner with Sludge sitting in front of him, prattling on about thermodynamics (they decided not to question it), and it was not very hard to knock him out with the noxious gas. Bluestreak was physically unharmed but…

"No, (twitch) more. Please no more. I don't care (twitch) about the macroscopic scale by analyzing the collective motion of their particles using statistics…"

"Sludge broke Bluestreak," Sideswipe said, deadpanned.

"He ain't broken. Probably a bit shell-shocked, but he'll live." They watched the poor shaking Datsun tremble in a fetal position. "Still, I don't think he's in any state to continue. Let's get 'im over to the command center. Come to think of it, we probably oughta get the Dinobots back as well." Jazz sighed.

"So that's, one, two…" Sideswipe stopped to do the math in his head. "Eleven Autobots Prowl has taken down so far. That's more damage than when we fight the Decepticons."

"We can't keep this up," Jazz growled. "He's picking us apart. Taken us down one at a time. We need ta take the offensive. If it's war Prowl wants, it's war Prowl'll get." Jazz grinned. "So let the games begin."

"This is no game, Jazz," Ratchet said sternly. "The Dinobots were a distraction," he continued slowly.

"Whatcha talkin about Ratchet?" Jazz asked hesitantly.

"I think Prowl's going to try to blow up the Ark."

0000000000000000

Yay! Another chapter done. Drunk Dinobots were really fun to write XD. (P.S. Thanks to PuraJazzBot on pointing out the Sludge/Snarl mixup thing at the end. How did I miss that O.o?)

It's probably going to be a while until the next chapter is uploaded since school is starting Monday. (Ish not happeh 'bout that)

Reviews loved, CC appreciated, and flames are given to Slag.


	4. Unconventional warfare

After like, a million years an update! Yay!

School is evil.

To all my reviewers, you all are love. Thank you for the comments!

Disclaimer. Don't own. Never will. Plot and plot devices are mine though.

000000000000

The occupants of the room stood silently, observing Ratchet carefully.

"What?" Sunstreaker's voice cut through the silence like a knife.

"Prowl stole Cyclotrimethylenetrinitramine from Wheeljack's lab." The medic repeated.

"Ratchet, I don't speak nerd. You're going to have to use smaller words," Sideswipe said in deadpan.

"It's a substance that makes things go boom."

"See? That I can understand." Sideswipe grinned, but it quickly wilted off of his face. "Oh damn. That's bad."

There was silence again.

Jazz was the first to speak, "So, Prowl is trying…"

"…to blow up the Ark?" Sunstreaker finished.

"But that goes against every bit of logic that Prowl has! It's stupid, reckless… It's something _I_ would probably end up doing," Sideswipe argued.

"Well, it's not exactly Prowl's logic circuits in charge now is it?" Ratchet spat hostilely. "It's his battle computer, and his battle computer seems set on taking out the whole Ark regardless of the repercussions because right now, to it, we're a threat."

"But it…" Sideswipe let his finger drop. "Sunstreaker, Ratchet is reasoning with me again," he whined.

"Ratchet, stop victimizing my brother with logic," Sunstreaker started, "I don't think his motherboard can handle the strain."

"Oh Prowl…Why?" Jazz looked to the ceiling, miserably. The situation was losing its fun and becoming dangerous. The black and white mech dropped him self onto the ground in Indian style, folded his arms over each other, and began to think.

"Jazz, what the hell are you doing?" Ratchet cocked an eye ridge.

"Shush. I'm thinking." Jazz pursed his lips as the others stared at him expectantly. "If he is using the explosives you said he was, he's gonna hafta put them somewhere in the B sector. Most likely since that's closest to some of Ark's power conductors while also bein' closer to the Volcano's core."

"How can you be so sure?" Sunstreaker asked skeptically.

"I'm a saboteur. I specialize in sabotage. Knowin' the most effective ways to make things blow up is part of the job description. Let's see." Jazz pulled out a blue rolled up paper from subspace and unfurled it revealing blueprints of the Ark. Ratchet looked over the Saboteur's shoulder and noticed there were several notes scribbled all over the page showing where there were weak spots and holes in the Ark's structure and security systems.

"Jazz, why do you have schematics of the Ark?" Ratchet queried. Jazz looked up.

"For collateral." He grinned

"For collateral?" Ratchet cocked an eye ridge. Jazz, however, instantly became absorbed in the schematics of their base.

"RDX by itself has a high degree of stability in storage. However, when combined with other explosives, oils, or waxes it's one 'a the most potent explosives on this planet. Bee found Perceptor, Beachcomber, Blaster and Huffer in front 'a the weapons bay unconscious meaning that Prowl pro'lly already has the needed explosives."

"I'm impressed, Jazz. You did your homework." Ratchet crossed his arms over and gave Jazz a smug smile, fully knowing that Jazz was way more calculating then he often appeared to be. Especially, when it came to his field of expertise.

"Of course." Jazz grinned, but quickly went back to business. "What form did Wheeljack have the RDX in last ya saw it?"

"I believe it was composition B. Several of Earth's armies use it in projectiles, rockets and land mines."

Jazz's face fell. "In that case Prowl just needs a good block a' TNT to make it go boom. Maybe he'll add a desensitizing agent to the mixture if were lucky."

"Well, I'm assuming since this whole absurd situation is for 'self preservation'," Ratchet made quote marks with his fingers, "Most likely he will create _something _to delay the reaction so he'll have time to get out. Perhaps he'll integrate the explosive to a timer."

"Well if he does use the comp. B he'll put it here," Jazz jabbed at the map, "At the utility sector under the secondary generator room. That way the explosives' explosion will cause, and feed, off a' the generator's explosions and make a blast big enough to hit the volcano's core…"

"…this would cause a volcanic explosion that would probably completely annihilate the Ark and everything surrounding a twenty mile radius, and that's if the eruption is small. Just wonderful." Ratchet spat sarcastically. "I'm starting to think we should hit Prowl with something very hard, and very heavy just to knock him out. It'll be a lot easier for us."

"They've forgotten about us haven't they," Sideswipe noted dully to his brother as he watched the Jazz and Ratchet immerse themselves in a conversation that only they understood.

"I'm all for it if we ever find 'im. Until then though we've gotta do somethin'." Jazz shrugged.

"Well now we're on a tight schedule. I have to fix Prowl _now_, even if it means we have to drag him in here half deactivated I don't care." Ratchet whirled around and glared at Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, "And I can promise you two will be given hell later for this whole fiasco, understand?"

"They remembered us, Sideswipe," Sunstreaker growled under his breath.

"So now we have a vague idea of what's going to happen. Question is what do we do about it?" Jazz inquired.

The others went silent.

"If I'm going to fix Prowl, I'll need tools," Ratchet started, "But Prowl raided my Med bay." Ratchet was still very sore about that. No one, NO ONE, messed with his med bay. The med bay was his sacred place, the place were his word was law, the place that he reigned supreme. To Ratchet, screwing around with his bay was like desecration of a sacred object.

"I wish Optimus was here." Sideswipe mumbled quietly, "The big guy's like this monstrous reservoir of plans and ideas. I bet you he keeps a secret medical stash for himself."

"Wait, that's it," Ratchet suddenly remembered something, "Perceptor barrowed a few of my tools for a science project of his. They should still be in his quarters!"

"Would they work for the electroshock procedure?" Jazz asked hopefully.

"I can_ make_ them work." Ratchet grinned devilishly.

Jazz returned the expression with his own impish smirk. "Then I can make a plan."

"Care to share?" Sunstreaker smiled delightfully. He was happy to be going on the offensive for the first time all day.

"First, let's get Ironhide." Jazz opened his comlink.

"Autobot Jazz to Ironhide." There was a fizzle and the link came to life but there was no reply. Just muffled background sound and some angry muttering. "Ironhide? Autobot Jazz to Iron-"

"Hold your damn horses, and give me a minute!" Ironhide yelled. Jazz and the others were taken aback briefly. The line went quiet save for some scuffling, "Ahah! I got you, you little- ARGH!"

"Ironhide! Ironhide what's wrong!"

"Primus Fraggin, not worth a Hoot 'na holler, ain't nobody watch out for, camode huggin drunk, Scannel!" Ironhide raged unintelligible over the comline. "Ah'm gonna whup that outa kilter youngin!"

"Could ya repeat that 'Hide? You lost me after the first consonant," Jazz asked with composure.

"BEE BIT ME!" Ironhide roared. "Sideswipe, I know yer smilin' like an ass-eatin' briar! Wipe that grin off yer face before I come on over there and beat it off ya!"

The dubious smile remained strong despite the threat. It was mirrored by his brother's.

"What's going on, 'Hide?" Jazz asked evenly.

"I don't know!" Ironhide cried distressed, "He's suddenly bouncing around like a spastic electron. I don't know where he's gettin' this energy from but he's almost literally bouncin' off th' walls and slipperier then a greased meta-hawg. I can't get a hold off him! And Swoop ain't helpin' matters either! "

"Aw. Our sweet little, innocent Bee does have an evil streak. I'm so proud." Sideswipe wiped a nonexistent tear from his optics in pride in a fashion he had seen mothers do on one of Trailbreaker's soap operas. Sunstreaker snickered.

"Ironhide, you need to find Bee. It's dangerous for him to be out of our sight in the State he's in. This is all probably an after effect of the chemical," Ratchet declared firmly.

"Ah'm workin' on it! Wait there he- Don't touch that!"

Crash.

"Ya'll are on your own. I'll try to get Bee and Swoop under control while ya'll get Prowl. Ironhide out!"

The comline went dead.

"Okay. Well Ironhide's busy and now we're one mech shorter," Jazz sighed.

"Twelve," Sideswipe chirped quietly, adding another marker to his mental tally of Autobots Prowl intentionally and unintentionally put out of commission.

"Well here's the plan. You two," he hailed Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, "Go to Percy's lab and get the med supplies, but please don't break anythin'. Ratchet and I will get Prowl."

00000000

_Outside the __Ark._

Rumble and frenzy were sitting a small hill located some ways away from the Ark. They had been sent on an information gathering excursion to locate any potential weakness in the Ark's defense systems.

"If they really wanted to keep us out so badly they could just try to put a _door _at the entrance." Rumble commented.

"You know Autobots aren't that bright. That all have there heads shoved too far up their own exhaust pipes to see the obvious," Frenzy replied.

The two were waiting for Laserbeak. She was supposed to be back along time ago. She should be back any minute now.

So they waited.

..And waited.

…aaaand waited.

Rumble began getting antsy. "I'm bored," he whined. "Laserbeak's been in there forever. What's she doing? This was supposed to be quick and I'm freezing my Aft off."

The sun was barely up at this point and the air was still frigid. Rumble had to scrape off the film of ice that was crystallizing on his armor every fifteen minutes and it was starting to annoy him.

"She's been in there a long time. You don't think the Autodolts found her do you?" Frenzy asked with concern.

The two exchanged a worried glance in mutual worry for their younger sister. Rumble activated a private comline.

"Hey beaky. How's it coming in there?" he tried contacting the buzzard transformer.

'Call me beaky again and I'll peck your optics out.' Was the brusque response.

"She's fine," Frenzy stated perkily.

"Well, what the frag is takin' so long! My internals are starting to seize up from the cold!"

'…you two are not going to believe what has been going on in here. I'm going to send you both a clip of what I've recorded.'

Laserbeak relayed the images through a feed. The twins watched the events silently.

"Wow," Rumble commented dryly.

"Yeah. Wow," Frenzy parroted.

"They've lost it."

"They never had it."

"I'm surprised this didn't happen sooner really."

"It's about time too."

"This is the best mission ever. They're doing our job for us."

"Cool! We get a break and a show. All we need is some energon."

"Laserbeak, are you recording_ all_ of this?" Rumble asked excitedly.

'Of course,' came the smug reply.

The Casseticon twins both grinned happily.

The other Decepticons were going to have a field night when the whole thing was over and copies were made.

0000000

Meanwhile, the Autobot twins were on a mission: To locate the ever elusive medical tools.

Both found themselves in a portion of the Ark they rarely ever strayed to, Perceptor's room.

The entered and flipped on a switch, illuminating the space.

"Eyuh." Sideswipe wrinkled his nose in disgust as he entered.

"What?" Sunstreaker asked his twin with mild irritation.

"It smells like _knowledge_ in here."

"Sideswipe, stop being stupid."

Perceptor's lodgings were very orderly and pristine. Whereas Wheeljack's quarters was an abominable mess of hap hazardously strewn tools, chemicals and unstable machinery, Perceptor's lab was the opposite.

Data pads and documents were arranged by the duodecimal system on shelves, chemicals were neatly labeled and arranged in a massive glass case, specimens and science tools were placed neatly behind glass cabinets and each tool had its own plastic covering to protect against any dust or residue from the outside world that may have strayed into the Ark. On the back wall Perceptor had several periodic tables of several worlds pinned up neatly, covering most of the wall like puzzle pieces fitted together.

The two instantly began taking the place apart.

They began pulling data pads off the shelves, shoving fragile equipment roughly around and throwing other things out of there warpath for medical tools in a not gentle manner.

"For such an organized guy it's really hard to find anything in here isn't it?" Sunstreaker remarked as he checked behind a large telescope stationed on one of the lab's many tables.

"Wait. I haven't checked in there." Sideswipe pointed to one of the lower cabinets. He crossed the room, opened the doors and stuck his head in, "Wow its spacious back here." Sideswipe began crawling into the cabinet to get a better look at the contents. He stopped mid crawl. "Is…Is that a landmine?"

Sunstreaker whipped his head toward his brother almost expecting agonizingly hot twisting forces to rip his brother apart. It didn't though and Sideswipe's voice wafted out into the room again. "Oh it's dismantled. Geeze cluster bombs, assault rifles… there are a lot of weapon type things back here."

"Sideswipe, get out of there," Sunstreaker demanded, obviously not comfortable with the idea of his twin crawling around over potentially threatening things.

"No, wait I see something." The red mech pushed himself further into the recesses of the small storage space.

"Sideswipe! Sideswipe, have you lost your mind?" Sunstreaker asked incredulously with a hint of worry in his tone.

"No. It's backed up on a disk somewhere." Sideswipe continued riffling through the cabinet to the point that the whole upper half of his body was submerged in the space.

"Do you realize how tempting it is for me to just kick you in the aft right now?"

Suddenly, Sideswipe's body went rigid. " Eureka!" He slowly shuffled and retracted the rest of his body out of the cabinet. With him he had a small white metal box that was about the size of both of his forearms put together. "By George, I think we've got it."

"Is that it?" Sunstreaker popped the lid off to find an array of standard medical tools inside. Both of the twins sighed in relief.

At least something had gone right for them today.

All they had to do was hold down Prowl long enough for Ratchet to fix him and they would all be home free.

"For such a pacifist Perceptor's pretty armed isn't he?" Sunstreaker commented looking at the open cabinet filled with the armaments.

"Except most of the stuff in there was dismantled. Makes sense if you think about it. He probably taught himself how disarm them for peace purposes," Sideswipe said thoughtfully.

"What ever though. Let's get this stuff to Ratchet."

000000

Ratchet and Jazz found themselves in the secondary utility facility. It was used to be something like a boiler room strewn with pipes, metal girders, and rafters but had long ago been turned into a place for storage.

"If he's anywhere he's pro'lly gonna be in here."

"Well let's get to looking." Ratchet responded.

They walked further into the depths of the room but weren't seeing any signs of Prowl.

That was because the Tactician was above them.

Little did they know, they were actually being watched. From the rafters of the room, Prowl was looking down at the two like an intimidating, white hawk.

_Welder Harpy's status: detrimental_

_Target acquired_

There was the whine of grinding metal, and something began falling out of the rafters.

Jazz, a battle worn mech, had quick reflexes and ducked out of the way of the metal beam that had swung down on a mteal chain. However Ratchet, who did not have the same necessity for good battle reflexes, did not get out of the way in time.

"Ratchet, watch out!" Jazz cried futilely.

It was too late. The girder swept in a large arc from the ceiling and crashed into Ratchet knocking the medic flat on his back.

Jazz reacted quickly and pulled the medic back and out of the way before the metal beam came back a second time.

The damage had already been done though.

Ratchet groaned and shakily tried to sit up. Jazz assisted him, openly concerned for his friend.

"Ratchet? Ratchet?" He asked frantically hoping to incite some sort of response.

Ratchet gripped his head in his hand as he tried unsteadily to stand. Jazz watched him concerned.

"Ratchet! Are you ok?" The black and white 'Bot tried helping the medic up but Ratchet tried pushing him away.

"Don't worry, Blues, I'm fine." Ratchet said curtly.

"…my name is Jazz."

"Of course it is. That's what I said." Ratchet looked up at the Saboteur and scowled, "Rap! Where did you find the time in this mess to get a new paintjob? I'm not meaning to sound like Trucks but you don't pull of chartreuse and magenta very well."

Jazz gaped at him in horror. "Did you mean Tracks?" the Saboteur questioned.

"That's what I said."

"Slag. Prowl must've given him what the humans call a concussion," Jazz whispered. He turned to the medic and tried pulling his friend up. With a louder voice he stated, "That's it, Ratchet. You're outa commission. Let's get ya to the command center."

"No! I still have to fix, Lurk!" the medic argued weakly.

"Prowl," Jazz corrected.

"I said that."

"Hey, don't worry man. We'll figure this out with out ya." He patted the white mech lightly on the back and smiled sadly.

"No offence, Techno, but you and the other two don't have enough medical knowledge between you all to fill an eggcup."

"I'm sorry buddy, but I don't think you should be messin' in Prowl's head right now like this. He's unhinged enough as it is," Jazz tried reasoning. Ratchet looked at him quizzically.

"Who's Prowl?"

Jazz moaned. Prowl took out the only mech who had a chance of making him sane again.

'_14 mechs Prowl's taken down.'_ Jazz sadly added another tally to Sideswipe's running list.

They were in deep slag now.

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_Meanwhile on Cybertron…time for Prime time! (Man that was lame)_

Optimus Prime, the awe inspiring, charismatic commander of the Autobots, was bored out of his mind.

Three days he had been on Cybertron in Iacon city. It was simply to check in how things were going at the home front and during his stay all was quiet as far as Decepticons went.

He spent most of his time being guilt tripped into giving seminars and speeches by some of the officers at the military base, being forced to listen to listless boring staff meetings that got absolutely nothing useful or of consequence accomplished, and simply wandering around the monotonous gray halls of the facility.

He found himself missing Earth.

There was a certain irony to the situation, wishing that he was back on the strange alien planet he and his small band of 'Bots were temporarily forced to remain on instead of his home world which so many of his men longed for so fervently.

But that was partially why he wanted to get back to the Ark. He, to put it blatantly, missed his troops.

The Base at Iacon was not quite as energetic and colorful as his temporary home on Earth.

…Oh scrap it. It was boring as hell. Watching the lacquer dry on Sunstreaker's frame would be more interesting. Counting each individual grain of sand in the Sahara with human sized tweezers would be more exciting then being in the fortified Autobot capital.

Despite being ancient beings, Cybertronians had notoriously bad short term memories. It was for that reason that many of them could remain exactly the same in mannerism and personality as they had millions of years prior. It was simply because they couldn't remember every little thing that ever happened to them and so it didn't really affect them.

So, of course from being away from Cybertron, even if it was just for a short time (Ok 4 million years wasn't short but they had been in stasis that whole time. It only felt like they were actually on Earth for a few years at most), he had completely forgotten how dull the commanding unit and base was In Iacon.

It was just so orderly and formal to the point of obsessive compulsiveness. All of the officers were rulebook beaters and lacked the energetic and varied personalities of his officers on Earth. The soldiers, from what he had seen, were no better and also extremely dull from having rules and regulations constantly shoved down there throats. They didn't have the same vigor and personality as his personal troops.

Prime, as commander, knew that rules were important in keeping an army in order, but he also, as a former civilian, knew how important it was to be able to retain at least _some_ your personality and how important it was to have time to actually be yourself and let go. It helped keep you sane and helped the soldiers' morale immensely.

It was because of this reason that he created his elite unit with the particular mechs he chose. Even if they got a bit rowdy sometimes, there was never a boring moment at the Ark.

'_Prowl has them under control I'm sure.' _Optimus chuckled to himself.

"Sir?" Optimus snapped out of his thoughts and zoned back into reality. He directed his attentions to the mech that was walking beside him.

He was an old mech. One of the only few he knew that was from at least Ironhide's generation, if not older. His age reflected heavily in the design of his grey and dark yellow body. He was bulky and his shell was dull. Also, a good portion of his internals consisted of older technology: gears, cogs, spokes and whatnot hence his name, Clockwork.

Optimus then remembered he was being given a tour of the base that he was supposed to be listening to. Now he was being stared at questioningly. Prime quickly covered up his folly.

"I was thinking of my second in command back on Earth. I'm sure he would be thrilled to visit your excellent facility," Prime said without missing a beat.

The old mech's jean blue optics brightened and he continued jabbering on about the extensive details of the military base in full, giving Optimus the full rundown.

After successfully saving face, Optimus began zoning out again.

He found himself missing his dysfunctional troops. He missed the twin's thoughtless yet highly amusing (Not that he would ever admit to that) antics, Ratchet's petulant (yet caring. The more he yelled the more he liked you) moods, Skids' philosophical and sometimes mind-boggling outlook on life, the underground betting pools led by Smokescreen and Brawn (He had 632 energon chips riding on how long it would take Tracks to figure out that Sideswipe switched his wax with vegetable shortening), Ironhide's old loyal grumpiness, Jazz's cool and laidback demeanor … he even found himself missing the stranger beings of the Ark and their quirks such as Warpath with his interesting speech patterns.

'_Prowl's probably running them ragged to keep them out of trouble,'_ Prime thought amused. If anything were to happen at the base he gave orders to be contacted immediately. Yet all had been quiet.

Was it bad of him he was slightly disappointed that nothing came up and he hadn't been contacted? Was it terrible that he wished something happened on Earth so he could leave the Iacon base?

But much to his delight he was almost done with the formalities! He could go back soon and escape this boorish hell!

There was just one more thing he was obligated to do and the inspection would be over. What was it?

"They're the finest of Iacon," Clockwork said proudly but added quickly, "Of course that's after your own elite."

Oh right. He had to inspect a platoon of soldiers to see how his troops on Cybertron were doing.

This was very important.

The young soldiers at this base were the future of Cybertron.

"Perhaps they will be the next elite." Prime chuckled. Clockwork absolutely glowed with ego at this thought.

Clockwork quickened his pace to the door at the end of the hall and punched in the access code in a flurry of beeps. There was the click of a lock opening and the doors slid open revealing the bunker that the inspection was supposed to take place.

The very empty bunker.

"Where are they?" Optimus asked curiously.

"I'm sure they'll be here in a nano-klik." There was the whir of another door opening at the end of the large room. A figure back lit by the bright hall rushed forward, "See, here comes-" Clockwork trailed off and his face fell, "Oh no." he moaned covering his optics with his hand.

Optimus looked ahead in confusion. A lone soldier was jogging up to himself and the Colonel.

The young mech had the build of a standard cannon fodder, was a very clean cut, and was colored particular shades of green and red that made Optimus think of a Christmas tree.

"What is it this time?" Clockwork hissed.

"Sir, I apologize for this inconvenience but platoon 386 will not be able to make it for the high command's inspection." the young soldier spoke with a firm, bland tone that just screamed mindless militant drone.

Clockwork regarded him coolly before exploding in a fit of rage. This new side of the colonel surprised Optimus but he decided to play spectator, "What do you mean platoon 386 will not be able to make!? Our high commander Optimus _Prime_ is here! This is not an optional inspection!"

"There was an… incident of sorts, Sir."

"Primus scrapping brats," The old gray and dark yellow mech cursed under his breath before turning to Prime, optics brimming with apologies, "Prime. I am so sorry. Please don't let this reflect badly on us. We really are much more organized…"

"Do not worry about it. Everyone has there off days," Optimus spoke in an understanding tone just secretly glad to get out of the inspection. But then he looked over to the young messenger who didn't appear to be leaving. He turned to Clockwork, "… Don't you wish to inquire on the situation?"

"No. No I don't. Because if I ask, then he would tell me and why would I want that?" Clockwork eyed the smaller mech distasteful. The young soldier remained standing stiffly where he was, showing no signs to indicate that he was going to move. Clockwork all but rolled his optics. "Haste, why are you still here?"

"Haste, was it? What happened?" When Optimus spoke the young mech seemed to stand a bit straighter, if that was even possible in his already plank-stiff, straight backed stance.

Perhaps there was more variety and color hidden under the façade of perfection at Iacon's base.

"Lock On misfired," the mech, now dubbed Haste, spoke boringly and loud.

"Dear Primus, he shot one of our own again didn't he?" Clockwork groaned in understanding.

It took Optimus less then a klik to wrap his mind around the oxymoron. "Who is Lock On?"

"He is a sniper sir."

"He's a sniper."

"Yes, Sir."

"He shot one of our own?" Optimus reiterated in surprise.

"Yes, Sir, he did. However, it was completely unintentional."

"…But his name is Lock On."

"That is correct sir."

"Wouldn't a name such as that indicate some form of accuracy when shooting?" Optimus inquired.

"You'd think it would... All logic dictates it should, but it doesn't, Sir," Haste replied mechanically.

"…at all?"

"The kid is the worst shot in the galaxy," Clockwork scoffed. "Think of that Bluestreak kid you have down with you on earth, and imagine of the exact opposite in skill. Then multiply that by three and you get Lock On."

"Please elaborate." Optimus had his interests perked. There was a story and, Primus Damnit, Optimus was bored! Anything to occupy his time besides seminars and dull staff meetings would suffice.

"He was in the shooting range practicing for the inspection. However, when he attempted using one of the new recoilless iron shell rifles it… well, recoiled and Lock On missed the target. Then the shell ricocheted off of the wall and ended up hitting Hazmat, he's our chemical warfare specialist, in the skid plate."

Optimus mentally winced. Shot's in the aft, while not life threatening hurt like the inferno. He felt kind of bad for his troops. It was sort of common knowledge that weapons they were all using came from the lowest priced sellers. That was the only way to keep up with demand.

The green and red continued, "Havoc and Riptide took him to our med bay, Lock On followed them frantically screaming apologies, and then they finally reached Evac."

"And Evac is?" Optimus trailed off hoping for further elaboration.

"He is one of our medic's in training, Sir. So, they set Hazmat down on one of the recharge tables, Evac got a look of the wound and then he passed out because of the energon," The kid responded flatly.

"Energon loss?" Optimus asked worriedly.

"No sir. Evac passed out from the sight of the Energon." The young mech stated in an unwavering professional tone despite the absurdity of the statement

Optimus blinked in incomprehension. "You said he's the medic."

Haste stared blankly into Optimus's optics, seemingly not understanding the subliminal question in his commander's words, "He _is_ the medic, Sir."

Prime sighed in defeat. "Never mind. Continue your tale please."

"Yes, Sir. Havoc and Riptide began to laugh, Lock On began to wail, and Hazmat began to scream at them all telling them, I quote, 'All of you shut the hell up before I solder your mouths shut with piping hot slag!'" Haste screamed angrily apparently mimicking how the aforementioned mech's emotions were at the time.

Optimus was slightly taken aback but the sudden expressive retelling that the young mech showed, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by professional indifference. "All of the commotion caused Recall, our warrant officer, to come running in. He ended up tripping over Evac and out the window."

"Out the window?" Prime asked incredulously.

"Yes, Sir. Out the window. Recall landed on the flagpole a few stories down so he was uninjured. We sent two of our reconnaissance specialist, Tenor and Trapwire, to get him down. They both got stuck."

Clockwork, who had been quietly seething up until that point, threw in his two cents to the tale as well giving it a bleak ending for its characters. "Those damn brats are going to be scrap when I'm done with them."

"The reconnaissance…got stuck." Optimus confirmed slowly.

"Unfortunately so, Sir. Currently at this moment our team is trying to get them all down. We're in the process of sorting out the needed paperwork." There was a hint of optimism in the methodical youngster's voice.

"Paperwork?" Prime questioned, "You mean they are still up there? Why don't you just get them down now?"

"Act without… proper authorization?" Haste knitted his metal brows in confusion, and looked as if the words felt alien in his mouth.

Optimus groaned.

So… _This_ was the future army of the Autobots in the making.

They were all _so_ going to hell in a hand basket.

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This chapter was boring. I'm sorry. It was necessary for plot though.

Not much more left to go. Just one or two more chapters left I think.

Reviews loved. CC appreciated. Ideas welcomed and flames are used for marshmallows.


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